Pieces
by NeilTrinity
Summary: In a menacing land ruled by ruthless Arrancar, Kuchiki Byakuya plays a deadly game to conceal his growing might from his malevolent father, Sojun, who is one of the ten Espada lords. That is, until his arranged bride awakens in him passions he no longer thought existed. The only problem is- she's an assassin. And her target? AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay guys, new story- one with a totally different twist. I hope you enjoy the ride.**

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_**"I come to you in pieces... so you can make me whole." **__- _**Red ft. Abbey Griggori, "Pieces**"

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**_Chapter 1_**

_The link between the World of the Living and the Soul Society had sundered long ago. The shinigami and their mysterious powers fading to legend. Powerful beings of extraordinary talent, the shinigami preferred a world of peace. But ten of them- considered mad by their own people- longed for sacrifice and war. They stole sacred spiritual scepters, created by their own inner potential, and opened the gate to the human world again and flew through. _

_Each Espada (all ten of them) carved a sovereign land within Nihon, a country flowing with years of prosperity, and forcefully replaced the shogunate that had recently been formed to power. They acquired willing and unwilling slaves to serve in their palaces, to till their lands, to do their bidding. _

_To fight their wars. _

_Like mythical gods they set armies of humans against the other, battling for the right to win the king, who'd become nothing more than a trophy. They bred with their human slaves, producing children to become champions of their war games. _

_The Espada lords maintained a unified pact, using the scepters in a united will to place a barrier around Nihon, with only a few guarded borders opened to commerce. But the world grew afraid, turning a blind eye to the plight of the people, persuaded by greed to leave Nihon to its own, as long as the Espada did not seek to expand their rule into neighboring lands. _

_But many of the people formed a secret rebellion to fight their oppressors. Some of the Espada children considered themselves a part of humanity regardless of their foreign blood and joined the cause for a better life, for a better world. _

_And over the centuries, these half-breeds became their only hope. _

**~xXx~**

_**Karakura District, 1754**_

The people lining the streets of Karakura cheered while General Kuchiki Byakuya rode to his doom. Not that they had any idea what awaited him at the Estate, and if they did, he doubted they would care. He resembled the Espada lord too much for that. Yet he had won the final battle and they hailed him as their champion despite his tainted, Shinigami heritage.

Young women threw flowers from the upper-story windows, the petals flickering through the air like snow and coating the dusty streets with color. Gray skies covered the sun and in some places the buildings nearly met above the streets, further shadowing the riders' passage with gloom. The glass-fronted shops had been locked up as their owners joined the throng in the streets: painted harlots, street urchins, costermongers, and servants. The fishy smell of the coastal market overlaid the stench of the streets as his troops approached Karakura Bridge.

Over the murky waters the flaming turrets of the Estate beckoned Byakuya onward.

He shook back his long mane of silky hair and straightened his spine, glancing back at his men. They had cleaned their armor as best they could, their bodies and clothing neatly presentable inspite of feeling the heavy exhaustion that threatened to overtake them. Despite their tired faces, Byakuya could see the glitter of pride in their eyes and nodded his approval at them. They returned his gesture with weary respect.

Byakuya turned and sighed. They were brave, good men, every one. Some he owed his victory and life to. He would like to oversee their promotions himself but it would be too dangerous. He didn't know the personal life of a single man nor did they know of his. Byakuya had grown used to his solitary existence, yet sometimes he regretted the necessity of it.

The hooves of his horse met the road at the end of the bridge with a crunch of pebbles. The nose of the crowd faded as they neared the open gates of the Estate. Red flames jutted from the top of the stone walls flanking the entrance. Byakuya halted his mount for the span of a breath, studying his home with the unfamiliar gaze of one after a long absence. He wanted nothing more than a bath and then the quiet of his garden or the sanctuary of his chambers. He knew he wouldn't manage any of his comforts until he'd been tested in the fire.

He thrust away the memory of pain and dismounted, feeling his face turn to stone, his body conform to rigid military posture as he crossed the paved courtyard and ascended the steps into the opulence of the Estate. Several of his officers followed, although many decided to forgo the privilege of coming to the attention of the Imperial Lord.

The back hallways they marched through displayed the power and wealth of the Imperial Lord. Byakuya breathed in the scent of candle wax, perfume, and alcohol. At the end of summer the air in the corridor still felt chill against his cheeks. His ears rang from the silence.

Then Byakuya opened the door leading to the great room and the thunder of applauses and congratulations broke out over the brief moment of quiet conversation. He paused, waiting for his men to compose themselves, then started down the middle of the enormous room through the crowd of gentry that awaited them.

Fluted columns lined the sides of the hall, capped with ornately carved capitals that supported archways even more ornately carved with demons. Kimonos of the highest expense glowed with color as they hugged around each women. The men themselves were also dressed handsomely from top to bottom.

Byakuya suppressed the urge to sigh, keeping his gaze fixed on his goal, the dais of gold where the sixth Espada lord Sojun waited, but he caught the faces of the courtiers from the corners of his eyes. The lustful gazes of women- and more than a few men- followed his every movement.

When he reached the Imperial Lord's throne, Byakuya stared at Sojun for longer than he intended. Midnight black hair cascaded past broad shoulders in a river broken only by the smooth roundness of the Espada lord's perfect ears. Bluish, fathomless eyes stared coldly into Byakuya's own grey ones, the expression robbing them of their almost crystalline brilliance. Smooth, pale skin glistened like the finest porcelain over high cheekbones and strong chin. A full mouth, straight nose, high brow.

When Byakuya looked at the Imperial Lord, he might as well have been gazing into a mirror of his future, for although his father must be over seven hundred years old, he did not look a day over five and thirty. And despite the thickness of his estranged blood, Byakuya aged at a normal human pace. In ten years, Byakuya would look like the man before him.

Byakuya dropped to both knees and bowed low, long locks dangling beside his cheeks and eyes fixed on the polished, wooden floors. A wave of silence rolled across the room until he could hear nothing but the breathing of his men and the rustle of the ladies' outfits. "I have won the king, my lord."

At his words, the room erupted into excited conversation again and Byakuya stood, gazing at his father, hoping to see a glimmer of pride in those cold, dark eyes. He had fought for years to achieve such acknowledgement.

Imperial Lord Sojun smiled, revealing even white teeth, and cut his hand through the air, signaling the court to silence. He stood with a grace no human could possess and stepped down from the dais, one hand wrapped around the black scepter that enhanced his spiritual pressure. Byakuya's eyes flicked to the rod, the runes carved on it swirling momentarily in his sight before he quickly looked away.

As a child he'd been constantly hungry. He'd been stealing food off the sideboard in the grand dining room when his father and court had entered. He'd hidden under the table and his father had sat, the triangular-shaped head of the scepter jutting beneath the crisp white linen. Byakuya didn't know what made him reach out and stroke the forbidden talisman, for everyone knew only one of the true eleven blood could hold it without being flamed to ash. But he hadn't tried to wield it, had only touched it, and since then he couldn't look at it without feeling strange. as if the thing possessed a conscious awareness of him. It bothered him that he had such a fanciful though.

Sojun reached his side and placed his other hand on Byakuya's shoulder. The chill of his long fingers penetrated the heavy material of Byakuya's haori_. _"After hundreds of years the king will finally be returned to his rightful place. Thanks to my son, the champion of all Karakura."

Applauses thundered again. The Espada lord's words echoed in Byakuya's ears. His father had publicly acknowledged him as his son. Fierce pleasure rose in Byakuya's chest and he had to force himself to concentrate on Sojun's next words.

"Kuchiki-taisho has defeated Imperial Lord Rureaux's forces, and we have won the ultimate trophy- Lord Kurosaki and his royal court. Nihon will again be the center of taste and fashion. The sovereignty of Karakura will house the man who decides what symbols you wear."

A ripple of excited pleasure ran through the courtiers, and Byakuya stared coldly at the assemblage. Did they not hear the disdain in his father's voice? Did they not understand the mockery toward the king who should be their rightful ruler?

Sojun's fingers tightened on Byakuya's shoulder, and the Espada lord's reiatsu shivered through his spine. Byakuya forced himself to relax under the painful grip. It did not matter if the ton understood or not. They could do nothing about it, anyway.

"Tonight we will feast in my son's honor."

His fingers gave Byakuya one last painful squeeze before he released his grip and climbed back up on his dais. With a flourish of his scepter, Sojun filled the long great room with sparkling white fire, the flames harmlessly bouncing off the hairs of the men and silk kimonos of the ladies. The courtiers laughed and wove their bodies through the magic, and Byakuya watched them with hooded eyes until his father grew tired of amusing his playthings.

When Sojun swept the skirts of his white silk coat through the door behind the throne, Byakuya followed, resisting the sudden urge to draw his zanpakuto and run it through his father's back.

He'd tried it once. It had cost him the life of his best friend.

His father lit their way through the gloomy passage with black fire that slithered on the ceiling above them. Byakuya knew most of the passageways behind the walls of the palace. He'd spent hours as a youth exploring them. This particular one led from the throne of Sojun's private chambers and branched off only once by means of a tunnel that his father told him twisted far beneath the palace, finally opening onto an entrance to the fabled land of Hueco Mundo. Of course, only a chosen one could pass into that land, and Byakuya had still failed to prove worthy. They both ignored the heavily warded door blocking the tunnel as they continued on to the end of the passage.

Sojun opened the door to his chamber, and Byakuya followed him into the room and suppressed a shudder. Very few people were allowed into the Imperial Lord's private chamber, and he didn't count himself lucky to be one of them. The walls golwed with iridescent color, a copy, Sojun had once told him, of the truly living walls of his old rooms in his homeland of the fabled Hueco Mundo. Plants grew in the corners of the room, pale pink pods that occasionally liked to dine on warm meat through some corrosive process Byakuya didn't want to understand. A striated crystal sat next to the double doors that led out onto a balcony broad enough for a dragon to land.

They stone picked up the color of gray skies and threw it into the room. Large enough for a table, and yet shaped like a cone, the crystal held a hole in the top of it that Sojun oftened slipped his scepter into.

Chairs that resembled flower petals, a bed that could be some sort of deformed swan, and a desk that snapped closed like the jaws of some great beast completed the room.

Byakuya always felt displaced here, as if a part of his mind rejected the surroundings. But then again, he'd become quite skilled at projecting his mind out of his body. It was they only way he'd survived the trials with his sanity intact.

Sojun slid into one of his petal-chairs, the scepter carelessly laid across his lap. He liked to play with Byakuya a bit before he began, taunting him to display any human weakness.

"You used Senbonzakura to gain your victory."

Byakuya kept his arms to his sides and widened his stance. No use in denying it. He'd seen the shadow of the dragon hovering over the battle field, his father atop the great beast, enjoying the sight of the games. "I used him to save the lives of my men."

That handsome mouth crooked, so like Byakuya's own. "It looked to be quite the firestorm."

Byakuya remained silent. How his father could compare his shikai to a firestorm was quite a ridiculous analogy from his point of view.

Sojun shifted, the swish of silk coats loud in the silent room. "Grimmjow was furious, of course. He says we should not allow any of our bastards to play in the games. Indeed, that we should cull any of those possessing the slightest degree of power."

Byakuya kept his face impassive. He did not doubt that the Espada lords would destroy all of their offspring on a whim, for he knew their madness better than anyone. "And yet one of his own bastards tried to quench my attack with a wave of uncontrolled spiritual energy."

"Which I pointed out to Grimmjow," replied Sojun. He waved a graceful hand. "It matters not what he says. His pride has been injured by the loss of the king. He had become complacent, and we Espada must never succumb to that _human_ weakness, eh Byakuya?"

"Never."

"Aah, but it makes me wonder. Have I allowed _myself _to become complacent?" Sojun leaned forward, his glittering eyes intent on his son's face, baiting him with the agony of anticipation.

Byakuya, as always, remained unfazed.

Sojun collapsed back in his chair, the petal swaying with laughter, a ringing song emanating from the depths of the flower. "You were one of my greatest mistakes, and yet a most amusing one. We Espada procreate with you animals so rarely, and yet a brief rut with a common kitchen maid produced a bastard with enough of my blood to bear a marked resemblance to me. And sometimes I swear your heart is all Espada." He shook his head, midnight locks winking with bluish hue. "Still, who knew that when I saw you fighting with the other kitchen boys and threw you into the game, you would rise to claim the king one day? Not I."

"You've taught me well, Father."

"Indeed. And now we must again test your worthiness. You know what has to come, do you not?"

Byakuya lifted his chin.

His father stood, the scepter held before him with both hands, calling on the additional power the talisman gave him. "There is no other way to be sure of your power. Defend yourself, _boy_."

And he unleashed the black flame.

It engulfed Byakuya with a hiss and a scream, licking at his feet, shivering down his arms. His clothes appeared unaffected by the flame, and yet he felt them melting into his flesh, fusing into him. His skin still looked whole, and yet he felt it searing into ash. The black flame only burned in the mind, but ah, even the worse for that. He gritted his teeth and vowed that this time he would not fall. His own little game he always played against his father.

Byakuya reached for the hilt of his blade, his own spiritual pressure instinctively responding to the assault. With just the breath of a word, he could call forth the entire spectrum of the one being whom he'd trusted with all of soul and heart. The one being who faithfully continued to serve him, who protected him.

"Come on, lad. You can do better than that," said Sojun. And increased his reiatsu twofold.

Byakuya gasped for breath. The blackness slid down his throat and into his lungs, charring them until he could not breathe. The pain he could withstand, but the suffocation always defeated him. He dropped to one knee. His reiatsu flared again, and he imagined he felt the power of the black fire within him, the flame that burned only in the mind. Byakuya tried to call it forth, but as always, nothing happened.

He always forgot how bad the pain could be. How could he forget?

Byakuya had been wounded in battle many times. His men whispered that his Espada blood made him impervious to pain. They did not know his mind had been tempered in fire, that the cut of a sword or a sting of a bullet seemed a minor ache compared to the agony of his father's power.

And Byakuya knew he couldn't possess the power of black fire, as much as he wished for it. The gift would have been revealed when he reached puberty, when any Espada powers first appeared, and he would have been sent to Hueco Mundo with the rest of those children. Only those with small magics stayed in the World of the Living.

Yet his father continued to test him again and again, as if he suspected his son held stronger power as well. Or perhaps Sojun just enjoyed torturing him.

Byakuya's lungs began to falter, his breath reduced to no more than a strangled wheeze of agony. His other knee collapsed and he fell to all fours, cursing his weakness. Cursing his humiliation.

Cursing his father.

And suddenly the burning fire ceased.

Blessedly cool air caressed his cheeks and he sucked in a deep breath. Byakuya resisted the urge to run his hands over his face, his hair- to reassure himself that he stood unharmed as he'd done the first time he'd endured one of his father's trials. Sojun had laughed at him, and Byakuya had vowed never to give the bastard the satisfaction of that pleasure again.

He rose with noble grace.

Sojun studied him with narrowed eyes. "No shinigami could withstand such pain and not instinctively call forth his own spiritual pressure in defense. Again you've proven how truly weak you are... and yet..."

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. "Either destroy me completely or allow me to leave. I'm only half-human."

"Indeed, indeed." Sojun chuckled, lifted his scepter, and the door of his chamber flew open with a breath of fire. "You looked so human I forget you're half animal. Go lick your wounds, then. I want you rested for the feast tonight, and of course, your marriage tomorrow."

Byakuya halted in midstep. He had forgotten the date. Easy to do, since he'd almost forgotten what his intended looked like. He'd met Lady Rukia a few times and could only recall a plain wisp of a girl with dark hair and violet eyes. "Is it tomorrow, then? I suppose it's best to get it over with."

Sojun rolled the scepter between his palms, his eyes glittering. "It will make the humans happy, seeing my son wed to one of their finest aristocrats. And who knows? Perhaps you will breed true and produce another champion."

Byakuya sighed. Fatigue shrouded him and it took all his will to pick up his feet and put one before the other again. He had realized years ago that it would be pointless to fight the destiny his father had forced upon him. If Sojun wanted him to take a wife and breed champions, so be it.

It mattered only that Byakuya never allow them to be used against him.

When he left Sojun's room his feet took him to the tower stairs and not his own chambers. Halfway up the curving staircase a wave of nausea overtook him, and he allowed himself a brief moment of weakness. In the dark, where none could see. He felt again the searing of his flesh and the constriction of his lungs. Sweat broke out on his forehead while his body trembled in wave upon wave of remembered pain. But he gritted his teeth against the sobs that threatened to rise from his chest, and for a brief moment pictured his father's slim neck between his battle-hardened hands.

He thrust the futile image away and began to climb again. The Espada lord could level Karakura if he so chose. Byakuya's strength would never be a match against Sojun's, and he'd been forced to accept that.

But he had won a victory today. He'd made his father proud enough to call him son before the entire court. Byakuya would grasp that slender victory, as he'd grasped even smaller accomplishments over the years.

He shoved open the wooden door and stepped out the flat roof of the tower. Humid air caresses his skin; a light breeze swept his black hair against his cheeks. The metallic smell of the dragon teased his nose, and he glanced across the rooftop at the huge beast.

Ador raised his black-scaled head and blinked at Byakuya, his red eyes glowing even in the overcast day. Strange eyes with elongated pupils with black lines radiating from them, separating the red color like pieces of pie. The dragon's leather-like wings lay tucked against his sides, appeared deceptively small against his long, sinuous body.

Byakuya removed his haori and spread it out in his usual place at the base of a merlon and sat, his back against the stone. He leaned his head against the hard surface and closed his eyes with a sigh of utter weariness.

The dragon shifted. Byakuya heard it in the slide of scale on stone, felt it in the tremble of the floor beneath his feet. It had once frightened him, the sheer size of the beast. But no more. He'd gotten used to the beast and Ador... well, the dragon had finally managed to tolerate him.

"Do you remember the first time I came up here, Ador?" Byakuya didn't wait for the dragon to answer. He rarely received a response to his musings. But for Byakuya it was enough that someone listened. "Father had tested me by burning Kaien to ashes. He... he was a good friend. A loyal friend. I didn't think I'd ever forgive myself for not having enough power to protect him."

The pungent smell of the canals swept across the tower, even at this height, and for a moment, Byakuya thought he could hear the muffled sounds of the city bellow him.

"It was the first time I realized I could no longer allow myself to care for anyone. Man nor beast. For Father would always use them to test my abilities." Byakuya blocked the images of those who had suffered because of him. He'd found it much easier to bear the pain himself. "But my human weakness for companionship made me think of you. All alone, atop your tower. And then I realized Father would never harm his dragon-steed. That I could care for you, at least. Even if you couldn't return the sentiment." Byakuya cracked a hopeful eye. But Ador appeared to have fallen back to sleep, his lungs like a great bellows pumping beneath those black, shiny scales.

Byakuya sighed and allowed the solitude of their high perch to settle over him. The world seemed very far away up here. The wars, the court, his father- all dwindled to minute specks of matter. One final small tremor shook him, dispelling the last memory of pain. And when he spoke again his voice held the coldly rigid control it always did.

"I have done well, in most respects, to be like my father. Remote and untouchable, concerned by my own pleasure. But you know the truth of me, don't you, Ador? Whether you willed it or not, you've been forced to hear my true thoughts over the years." Byakuya scrubbed a weary hand across his brow, sighed, then pulled his fingers away, examining his palm. "This... human visage of mine is deceiving, for I've been cursed with an all-too-human heart."

Ador snorted and his wing twitched, his only reaction to Byakuya's damning statement. Ah well. Byakuya should consider that a remarkable response. Usually the dragon resembled nothing more than a still lump of a shiny black coal.

Byakuya rose, wincing at the stab of pain. Just an ordinary pain, though, from an old bullet wound in battle. "Are you aware that I'm to be married on the morrow? A dangerous proposition for one such as I. I almost feel sorry for the girl... but the aristocracy are used to being breeding stock, are they not?"

He picked up his coat and slung it over his shoulder. His mind felt settled again, the memory of the burning fading to a manageable degree. Byakuya couldn't be sure if the dragon's quiet presence soothed him or if the release of his thoughts brought him peace. He knew only that he always healed faster atop the tower.

He'd taken a few steps toward the door when the dragon's rumbling words stopped him.

"I smell a change in the wind."

Byakuya turned and stared into those red eyes. "What do you mean?"

Ador, of course, did not answer. He closed his eyes again and huffed a small stream of smoke through his nostrils.

Byakuya considered the implications of the dragon's words. Ador had once told him his father was mad. An obvious statement, it seemed, and yet those words had allowed Byakuya to deal with his father time and again. So he did not think the dragon referred to something as simple as the coming of the king. Yet no matter how he twisted the statement around in his head, he could not fathom it.

Ah well. How could Byakuya know the turnings of a dragon's mind? It would become clear in time... or until Ador chose to make it clear.

**~xXx~**

**I know, I know. I made Byakuya's **_**real**_** wonderful, kind, loving, soft-spoken father into a villain. Bite me.**

**Constructive criticism is always appreciated. **

*****PLAYLIST CHALLENGE***: Whomever submits the best playlist songs for each chapter of this story wins. I'm counting on you turkeys!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all who reviewed and read. It really means a lot to me as an author.**

*****WARNING***: Slight Rukia/Uryuu. Also, I'm breaking the Japanese wedding tradition. But then again, almost everything about this story and _Bleach_ breaks tradition, which is why the world loves it. **

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"_**I come to you in pieces, so you can make me whole." – **_**RED ft. Abby Griggori**

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_**Chapter 2**_

Lady Ukitake Rukia knelt in front of the burning incense erected on top of the altar before her and pressed her palms together. Darkness covered the small shrine in which she occupied save for the few candles she'd lit, not that she wasn't used to the lack of light when praying. In fact, she wouldn't have it any other way. Several students surrounded her, and so Rukia kept her voice to lower than a whisper. "Honorable Mother, please let my new husband be happy with me tomorrow- "

She started at the light touch on her shoulder, turning to face Orihime, who only nodded her red head toward the open shrine door. Rukia mutely followed the young woman down the aisle, noting with satisfaction that none of her classmates noticed her departure. She'd worked hard to make herself almost invisible to them, fostering no friendships or acquaintances.

They stepped out into the wide threshold with its arched roof and wooden floor, their footsteps echoing softly. Orihime slowed to walk beside Rukia.

"You must be sure to pay extra attention during your private lessons today," said the brown-eyed servant.

Rukia mutely nodded, waiting for the other woman to explain herself. She'd learned that if she kept her mouth closed, people talked more freely than if she asked them a hundred questions.

Orihime clasped her hands before her bosom. "General Kuchiki- your intended- has won the king today. So you must be even more diligent in your studies, for when you go to court, you will not only have to impress the Imperial Lord, but the king as well."

Rukia's heart fluttered with excitement. Not because her future husband had accomplished what no other man had done for over a hundred years. Not because she would live under the same roof as the king. But because the king's most trusted of captains, Kurosaki Ichigo, would be coming to Karakura. Having the counsel of the leader of the Rebellion might make her task easier.

"So you must listen well to Lord Ishida," continued Orihime, a slight hitch to her breath at the mention of the handsome strategist. "Practice your manners and forms of address, so you will do our division proud."

Rukia glanced at the courtesan. She required a response. "I will."

Orihime nodded with satisfaction. The young woman had some Espada blood somewhere in her family line, for Rukia caught the brief flash of a erupted spiritual energy surrounding the other woman's well-developed being. As if she were…

"Although I can't imagine anyone not paying close attention to Lord Ishida."

Rukia brought her attention upon the other woman, watching as she released a romantic sigh. She stifled a smile. She didn't blame the girl, despite her standard class. The handsome Quincy would cause any woman's heart to yearn for just a touch of his hand. Indeed, Rukia had even once thought herself in love with him, when he'd first come to tutor her.

Orihime stopped just outside a large shoji door. She faced Rukia. "Do you wish me to accompany you inside?"

Rukia heard the note of longing in that request but had to shake her head. The staff had strict instructions from the headmaster to never enter this room. And despite Orihime's longing to catch a glimpse of Lord Ishida, it would be safer for her not to become too familiar with the Quincy.

The courtesan sighed and left, the long sweep of her robes floating back down the hall. Rukia took a breath and slowly pulled open the panel, allowing not a hint of a noise, a ghost of a sound, to announce her presence. Although her fellow students chose to wear the silk gowns befitting their aristocratic status, Rukia had years ago traded them for a pair of hakama and kimono tops. It made her job much more easier to run in.

She closed the door as silently as she'd opened it.

Lord Ishida stood with his back to the room, his hands on the windowsill, contemplating Karakura's dreary skies. Tables littered the room where he'd taught her her all sorts of games with which the court amused itself. Near the columned fireplace sat two velvet chairs and a tea tray, arrayed with meticulous precision.

But the middle of the room lay bare. Her true lessons took place within the empty space.

Rukia waited with bated breath. Lord Ishida appeared deep in thought, unaware of his surroundings. One of his ancestors had ties to the Soul Society, for the man possessed some of that sovereignty's spiritual power of illusion and glamour. He often started Rukia by appearing silently at her side. Had her tutor really made such a mistake, or had he orchestrated a clever trap?

She slowly removed her zanpakuto from the hilt at her waist. A tune formed in her head. She felt the slight shiver of spiritual energy run through her veins as her feet began to move to the tempo of the music in her mind. Her body trembled in anticipation of the dance; the kettledrum pounding a growing beat, the flute twittering its notes, the bassoon growling beneath the increasing tempo.

Rukia wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword firmly and allowed the music to possess her. It fired her blood, strengthened her muscles, gave her a speed that surpassed all but an Espada lord's. She danced across the room within the blink of an eye, and swung her sword in a vertical arch.

The deadly tip rested just a breath away from Lord Ishida's pulse point.

Without appearing fazed, he whirled around. She could feel his power rising within him in defense of the attack. But speed and surprise aided her. However, Lord Ishida proved to be quite faster.

Grabbing her wrist, he whacked the blade away from her hands, yanking her towards him. Alarmed, Rukia swiped out a low under-kick. That did the trick. He fell, his heavier weight bringing Rukia to the floor with him, knocking over a small table and shattering the pale blue vase that sat atop it.

From her awkward position upon his chest, Rukia smiled a victorious grin, her thin wrists still wrapped within the tight grip of his grasp. "You were distracted," she accused him.

He didn't respond. Fear fluttered in her stomach, and she relaxed within his hold. "Uryuu?"

He grunted, his teeth clenching in pain. Rukia leaned over his face. Despite the scowl tightening his brow, he still managed to look incredibly handsome. The annoyance in his blue eyes softened to something else as Rukia continued to study him with genuine alarm.

"Have I hurt you?"

He managed a smile. "My pride more than anything else."

Rukia humphed. "Because you were bested by a woman?"

"No. Because I was bested by my student."

She suddenly realized their faces lay only inches apart. That she sat close enough to him to smell the scent of his cologne. Rukia scrambled backward, smashing her back against the wall. "Well I should think," she continued, "that you'd be pleased with yourself, Lord Ishida. Isn't the best teacher the one whose student surpasses him?"

He sat up, rubbing at the visible red scar that ran across the side of his neck. He pulled back his hand, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the blood smeared upon his fingers. His Quincy garb twisted around his lean body. Rukia never understood how he'd managed to fool so many with that clothing. He had the eyes of a wicked man.

They looked at her with a glittering of wickedness even now. His spectacles gleaming. "Perhaps. And I suppose the timing is fortuitous, since you're to be married on the morrow."

Rukia abruptly rose and he coped her movement, his eyes never leaving hers. He reached out to touch her hand and she turned away, facing out the same window he'd been standing at but a moment ago. "You've heard that he has won the king?"

"Of course."

Rukia didn't need to name her intended. They both knew of whom she spoke. And suddenly her doubts overwhelmed her. If only she had inherited some of that Espada blood, perhaps she wouldn't be so unsure of winning him over. Her black hair the typical color like many of the women within Nihon, and don't even get her started upon her "childish" features.

But her eyes... now they were unique. Or, so she believed.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "The very thought of him frightens me sometimes. I think he is more Espada than human. I worry I shan't be able to please him."

"Rukia." Uryuu's voice lowered to a husky timbre. "Look at me."

She never should have spoken of her fears. Not to him. Truly, not to anyone. But her marriage had always seemed a distant thing, something she needn't worry about for a long time. The day had come faster than she had been prepared for.

When she didn't turn around, Uryuu clasped her shoulders and spun her, the sudden abruptness causing her to drop her sword as he forced her to look at him. "You don't have to go through with this."

She looked into those blue eyes and saw to her utter astonishment that he meant what he said. "Do not allow me to give in to a moment of cowardice, Uryuu."

"I'm serious." His hand brushed her cheek.

When he'd first come to tutor her, she would have given her life for that touch. But Uryu had kept himself aloof, recognizing her infatuation for what it was. Or so she had thought.

"You know," Rukia smirked, averting her eyes, "I find it kind of ironic. Quincies and Soul Reapers are considered enemies to each other, and yet..." violet eyes locked with blue, "here you are. Helping me every step of the way."

"You're right. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you." His eyes softened. "Come away with me," he said. "The Rebellion will find someone else to marry that bastard."

Just the thought that she would stray from the patch laid out for her dizzied Rukia for a moment. Nearly every day of her life had been in preparation for her marriage to the Imperial Lord's champion. The thought that she wouldn't fulfill her destiny set her adrift. "It would be impossible."

He misunderstood her. "No, it wouldn't. I've given this a lot of thought over the pass few days. I'm the most skilled spy in the Rebellion. I can get you out of Karakura and into one of the neighboring sovereignties before anyone suspects you're even missing. I can keep you safe."

She shook her head and his temper flared. "You are going to your death, Ukitake Rukia."

She clenched her fists. Her own temper retaliated in response. "You've known this for years. Need I remind you that you are the one who taught me the death dances? You are the one who swayed me to the Rebellion's cause. How dare you take advantage of my cowardice to offer me this false hope."

"You're wrong." He shook his head, his black short locks fanning around his face. "It's not false, and I'm not taking advantage of you, and you are not a coward. In fact, you are far from it."

"Then why, Uryuu?" Rukia demanded, harsher than she intended. "Why now? Why ask me to give up everything I've trained for? What I've lived for?"

Trying to keep his emotions in check, he picked up her hands and went down on one knee. "Marry me."

Rukia gasped. Surely he was jesting. He had to be. "Do not joke with me, Uryuu."

"I'm not." His eyes hardened.

"You know I cannot."

"Why?"

"Because I don't..." she looked away, "I don't... love you."

His breath hitched, but then he said, "you don't love that ass hole, either. And you can't marry him."

She pulled her hands out of his. "I can. I will. That's different and you know it. It's a path I decided to take long ago. I've made my peace with the gods and am willing to risk my immortal soul."

"Don't spout that holy drivel with me, Rukia. No matter how much of a Quincy I am and act, I still have a heart."

She couldn't help the half smile that formed on her mouth. "And well do we know it, Uryuu Ishida."

He stood, raking his raven hair from his eyes, scowling at her stubbornness. "You used to love me, once."

"I admit I was infatuated with you. How could I not be? Besides my father, you're the only man whom I've spent any company." She didn't mention her betrothed. She'd been allowed out of the confines of the school to meet with him on several occasions. But they had all been formal functions, and Kuchiki Byakuya had barely seemed to notice her.

Uryuu made a strangled sound, stepped forward, and roughly took her into his arms. And then he kissed her.

Rukia had never been kissed before. He caught her completely unaware, and at first she could do nothing but study the peculiar sensation of having a man's mouth on her own. Warm, wet... and decidedly odd. She couldn't quite decide whether she liked the experience.

Uryuu pulled back his head and stared down into her face. "You don't feel a thing... do you?"

She frowned. "What exactly am I supposed to be feeling?"

He let out a sigh of frustration and kissed her again.

Rukia wondered if it would feel the same when her intended finally kissed her. Although she couldn't be sure if he would, not knowing if it was necessary for the act of... procreation. He'd made it very clear he would do only his duty and nothing more. That he viewed her as his breeding stock.

The thought made her try to respond to Uryu. This might be her only chance to experience a true kiss. Cautiously, she slowly slid her hands around his shoulders, which made him groan and lean even closer to her, nearly bending her backward with the force of his mouth.

Rukia could think of nothing other than the pain in her back and the need to breathe.

Uryuu pulled away and raised his black brows. "Despite your lack of enthusiasm, I know you aren't rigid," he muttered.

"What do you mean? I'm not the slightest bit cold. Indeed, your hold is nearly suffocating me with warmth."

He straightened and set her away from him. "You could come to love me, you know."

"I'm not destined to love anyone. I knew that the moment I decided to join the Rebellion."

He spun and sought out the chair by the fireplace, sat with his elbows propped on his knees and stared into the embers. "You've always been stubborn. Once you set your sight on something, there's no changing your mind. I had to try though." He glanced up at her, raven hair tumbling over his brow. "Do you know how many assassins we've set on the Espada lords? And they've all failed, Rukia. Every last one of them."

The look in his eyes frightened her. She prayed for courage and took a moment to compose herself. She smoothed her sleeves, and picked up her sword. Their lesson today had not gone as she had thought it would. Then again, she had never imagined having such a conversation with Lord Ishida. Had never imagined that the man who'd always reassured her would now require that same sentiment back.

She sheathed her weapon and folded her hands within the deep folds of her sleeves, giving him a cheeky grin. "How many of them managed to rest a blade against your throat?"

He couldn't resist smiling back at her. "Woman, you'll be the death of me someday, I swear it. But there's nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?"

"No." She felt her smile falter as she thought of the enormity of her task. "I cannot think of myself. Nor you, nor my father... nor the Espada bastard, for that matter. The freedom of the people of Nihon is at stake. And just the chance"- she folded her arms tightly- "the mere chance of ending these ridiculous war games and setting the king in power once more is worth my soul."

"Not to me." She opened her mouth against and he held up a pale hand to quiet her. "Enough."

"Had I not been chosen for this task, I would have taken vows as a priestess and join the shrine."

Uryuu looked at her long and hard... then laughed at her. He laughed at her. The nerve! "Oh no, Rukia. Becoming a priestess is not for the likes of you."

"What?" Rukia raised her chin, miffed at his opinion of her. "I would make a very good priestess."

He laughed even harder, wiped the tears from those wicked blue eyes. "Sometimes I think I know you better than you know yourself. There's a fire within you, Lady Ukitake. I felt it in your kiss. And one day it will be set free, and heaven help the man who stokes it." He motioned her to the chair across from him and Rukia took it, although her back stayed as stiff as a rod. He eyed her for a time in silence, only the crackle of the fire and the muted sounds of a carriage rumbling past the window disturbing the peace.

All traces of humor vanished from his expression, and he leaned forward, his brow creasing in earnestness. "I do not think your father did you a favor of having you raised among all this religious dogma. You've taken it to heart and I'm not sure if it will help or hinder you."

Rukia frowned. She'd always considered Uryuu's lack of faith a peculiarity, another oddity to his character compared to those she'd been surrounded by. She pitied him for it.

Uryuu sighed. "Well then, there's no help to it. Despite my teaching, the covenant has managed to keep you pure, anyway. What a paradox you are, my dear. The court won't know what to make of you."

"Unless they get in my way, they hardly matter."

"I believe it. Now, this will probably be the last time we will be able to meet privately."

Rukia felt her stomach twist. In many ways, Uryuu had been her only friend. How would she manage without his company?

He patted her hand, then snatched his away, as if he had to force himself not to hold onto her. Their conversation today, that kiss of his, had changed their relationship, it seemed. Perhaps it would be better if they did not meet again.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "You shall still see me. But not as Uryuu. Lord_ Ishida_, however, will reappear at court, to the surprise and delight of all, I am sure." He gave her that crooked grin that had once made her younger self swoon. "But it wouldn't be safe for us to talk often or privately, so listen closely."

She nodded, relieved they had resumed their familiar roles as tutor and student.

"I don't know," he said, "if having the king's court in the Estate will make your task easier. See if you can aid Kurosaki Ichigo, but do not risk your task for his sake. We've never had an assassin this close to an Imperial Lord before. Your mission is far more important than the leader of the Rebellion, do you understand?"

Rukia nodded.

"Your reiatsu for the dance will not be enough. You never would have returned home after your trials if you had enough spiritual energy to truly threaten the Espada lord. Only surprise and skill will overcome him."

Although Rukia vaguely remembered her trails, she knew her father had been disappointed when she hadn't possessed enough spiritual pressure to be sent to the Espada lord's home world, the fabled Hueco Mundo. His friend, Lord Aizen, had bragged for years that his son had been a chosen one, and the Shogun had been decidedly put out when he could not say the same of his only child.

It had soothed her father somewhat when she'd become affianced to Kuchiki Byakuya. And now that her intended had won the king._ The Soul King..._

"It may take you years to get close to the Imperial Lord," continued the Quincy. "It will help you immensely if you can managed to make your new husband trust you. But eve then do not rush forward blindly. Remember your most important lesson."

The words fell from her mouth without thought. "Patience."

"Indeed. Practice it with Kuchiki Byakuya. I'm sure he will tax it."

Rukia smiled. Uryuu did not return it this time. Instead he leaned forward, his blue eyes hard as steel. "Make sure of your opportunity before you seize it. If nothing else, remember that, my student."

"I will. I promise."

The bell rang, signaling the end of prayer, and made both of them jump. Uryuu smiled at her rather sheepishly, and Rukia feared the smile she gave him in turn held too much sadness in it.

He walked her to the door, bowed low over her hand. "If you ever need me, leave a message. I will come... if it's safe."

She understood. From this moment forward, she should depend only upon herself. She turned to leave, but he would not let go of her hand.

"Are you sure?" he murmured. His eyes hard.

"Yes." Oh, how confident she sounded! Was it false or true? She supposed the next few days would tell.

His grip loosened and she felt her entire body grow cold. Would she ever be truly warm again?

"Farewell, then... Ukitake Rukia. You have been a most excellent student."

She might never see him again, at least in this guise. She wondered what he would be like in the full role of Lord Ishida, Leader of the Quincies. "Good-bye... Uryuu."

Rukia slipped out the door almost as quietly as she'd entered. Some of her training had become pure habit. The hall flowed with the colorful kimonos of the ladies of quality, and she insinuated herself within the crowd of students with barely a notice. She knew she should go to her rooms, that her father had sent his servants along with her wedding gown so she would be prepared for tomorrow.

But the entire encounter with Uryuu had shaken her belief in the path she had chosen to take. Her widowed father had no idea of her involvement with the Rebellion; he would have disowned her, since he stood to gain status and funds with her union to the champion.

She'd missed her mother over the years, but never as much as she did at this moment.

So when Rukia passed the by the shrine, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her. She'd always had the gods to talk to. For a moment she enjoyed the silence, the chatter of girls muffled behind the walls. Prayer time had ended, and so she had the entire place to herself.

She went straight to the altar, then sank to her knees and bowed low, her forehead touching the cool wooden floor as she pressed her palms together. Rukia could care less if anyone caught her in this position. She would need the strength to endure what had yet to come.

"Honorable Mother," her words were barely above a whisper, "please let my new husband be happy with me tomorrow so I can murder his father."

**~xXx~**

Rukia sat within the palaquin, trying not to rumple the silk of her wedding kimono. The sunshine streamed through the windows and struck the silver edging decorating the cream fabric and shot tiny sparks of light around her. Father had insisted on the silk, had chosen the priceless clothing himself. He wanted his daughter to shine.

Rukia only wanted to disappear.

She glanced at her father, who sat across from her. The press of traffic to the Estate impeding their progress.

"It seems like everybody in Karakura wants to witness your wedding," her father finally spoke, his eyes narrowing as he looked out the window. He sighed in irritation. "We're going to be late."

Age had not diminished her father's handsome looks. His natural sliver-white hair making his violet eyes appear lighter. He loved to hunt, spent a great deal of time outdoors, which had kept up his youthful physique. He had not mourned Rukia's mother for long, although she supposed she couldn't blame him, when women kept throwing themselves at his feet.

"Please, Father, don't be concerned. They will wait for us."

"Eh?" He glanced up, as if he'd forgotten her presence. "Oh, yes... perhaps so." The former thirteenth Captain of the Court Guard Squad leaned over and patted her hand. "As you are my only child, your son will inherit the title. Of course they'll wait."

Rukia gave him a weak smile and turned to stare out the window.

The palaquin and guards suddenly halted in place, and Rukia gave a sigh of relief.

They were here.

The area had been roped off to hold back the crowd, and a line of richly dressed officers stood in rigid military attention as they created an aisle for her to walk through.

An escort run up from the fray and opened the door, bowing low before he gestured for Rukia to step outside. Rukia felt as if she were on display and confined all at the same time as she hurriedly placed her feet onto the ground and faced the cheering crowd.

A sudden flare of cool white fire highlighted the officers and the entrance to the palace, dancing upward past rooftops in curling waves of crystal scintillation. Rukia could feel the strength of the Imperial Lord's power like a shiver in the very air. Her hands began to sweat.

Father stared out the window and swallowed. "Don't worry, my dear. We'll do just fine."

She couldn't be sure if his words were to reassure her or himself.

Father finally exited the palaquin, adjusting the ends of his sleeves, and held out his hand to her. Her fingers trembled as she clasped it. Her knees feeling like pudding and for the first time in her life, she thought she might swoon.

Rukia took a deep breath, and allowed her father to lead her to her doom.

But the moment she entered the grand palace, she knew the courage within her was crumbling. Long, sparkling halls decorated with the finest ornaments caught her nervous gaze as her father escorted her down, his expression grim, yet he was smiling.

She didn't trip on her own two feet, thank goodness. The last thing she wanted to do at the moment was allow her betrothed to see her as a clumsy fool.

Speaking of which...

Rukia gulped as she finally caught sight of her fiance. And his father.

General Kuchiki Byakuya's handsome features had always flustered her. He was the exact image of his sire.

Her intended stood with military precision; indeed, he'd worn his standard shihakusho and haori, along with a elegant green coat that signified his noble status, but she doubted that her wore this version in battle. His zanapakuto, not to Rukia's surprise, was strapped faithfully to his side. The purplish hilt held casually within his right hand. Rukia gulped. She would do well to remember not to release the slightest hint of spiritual pressure when around him or his guards.

As she drew closer to him, she noticed that his midnight blue hair seemed to be gleaming as half of it'd been clipped at the top of his head by weird-looking hair pins. What were they called again? Kenseikan? Not that Rukia minded. It showed out the prominence of his high cheekbones, making him look especially more regal looking.

Rukia had her attention riveted on him, but he didn't return the favor. Indeed, his gaze roamed to ceilings and he looked... bored.

She glanced over at the Imperial Lord Sojun. He'd dressed in the same manner as his son, although Rukia imagined he'd never fought on a real battlefield in his life. His face looked slightly paler than his son's, his shoulder's narrower, his legs less muscular. And his eyes...

Rukia's face swiveled between the two of them, before turning her attention towards the monk and kept it there as her father brought her to stand next to Kuchiki-taisho. He didn't so much as blink to acknowledge her presence. Her head just topped at his chest, and she fancied she could feel the heat of his powerful body.

She refused to allow her intended to intimidate her by his mere presence.

The entire wedding party waited in a frozen tableau, yet beneath Rukia's outfit she tapped her foot in rhythmic patience. A brief thought came to her and made her stomach flip. Could she kill Sojun now and put an end to this farce? She'd resigned herself to the knowledge that she wouldn't survive the assassination. Surely the Imperial Lord's son would kill her if she moved now. What better way to send the sovereignty into chaos and advance the tide of Rebellion?

Her heels lifted. Her knees swayed.

General Kuchiki Byakuya leaned down and whispered into her ear. "Do you have an itch?"

Rukia startled, and the Imperial Lord fastened those cold eyes on her. Had she detected a note of mockery in the general's deep voice? She stole a glance at him. His emotionless eyes stayed fixed on the monk as well, but the corner of his mouth twitched. She vowed she'd seen it twitched.

She felt a flush creep from belly to nose and knew her face turned a deep red. And knew her opportunity to act had passed.

Perhaps it was just as well. Uryu had cautioned her for patience and she'd almost rushed forward. And as she stood through the painfully long ceremony and went through the motions required of her, she chided herself.

Imperial Lord Sojun's body nearly vibrated with tension, his eyes watching the assembled guests without appearing to. His white fire magic still swirled among the guests, and she suddenly wondered if it had all been for show. Could he search for hidden dangers with it? Could he sense an attack, whether emotional of physical, with his power?

Rukia couldn't be sure. The information that the Rebellion had on the Espada lord was sketchy. Uryuu had done the best he could, but she suddenly realized she'd been ill prepared for her task. She could feel the power of Sojun's spiritual pressure, and the tiny bit she possessed seemed negligible by comparison. Perhaps the wiser course would be to discover all she could about the Espada lords and their powers before she acted at all.

Rukia now stood facing her... new husband. She supposed she'd have to get used to the idea. Although she didn't think she could ever get used to the coldness of his beautiful eyes. She'd hoped she could use the general to gather information about the Espada, but right now he did not look like a man who could be used. Indeed, when his eyes met hers for a moment, a shiver of dread went through her.

The few times she'd visited him, he had treated her with a disinterest bordering on contempt. She'd foolishly thought that when she became his wife that might change, but it appeared the ceremony affected him not at all. By the gods, how would she manage to share his bed tonight? Best not to think of that.

She blanched as her new husband suddenly slid a ring onto her finger. A band of gold with a rose carved atop it. But the rose looked so real, the edge of the petals as delicate as the true flower. Rukia couldn't resist the impulse to bring it closer to her face, then nearly jumped when the petals curled closed, changing the carving into a tight bud.

He'd given her a ring crafted by his very own Espada power.

Her eyes flew up to his in alarm.

General Kuchiki lowered his head. "It won't harm you," he muttered, a note of exasperation in his velvety voice. And then he kissed her, signaling an end to the ceremony.

Rukia's heart flipped over. She stood quite frozen, unsure of what had come over her. The general had done nothing more than press his lips to hers. And her entire body had shivered. From that one dispassionate touch.

As the onlookers broke into polite applause, Sojun leaned close to his son and mocked, "Surely the champion can do better than that."

She watched as her husband glanced at his father. Saw his face harden with challenge. Then the general wrapped his arms around her and roughly pulled her against his chest, and Rukia could only pray.

Her new husband kissed her again. But this time, he kissed her like Uryuu had, bending her backward in his arms, moving his mouth over hers as if he sought to eat her alive. But the experience was totally unlike the one she'd shared with Uryuu.

The world seemed to fall away. Rukia became aware of nothing and no none but the man holding her in his arms. The heat of his mouth, the fire that ran through her body, the sheer exhilaration at the taste of him. Her senses heightened. She felt her breasts tighten and strain towards him. Felt the wetness between her legs that frightened and excited her all at the same time. His tongue pressed against her lips, and lacking any experience of what to do, she opened her mouth and he invaded it, stroking and tasting until she just forgot how to breathe.

Her new husband abruptly let her go and set her away from him. Rukia swayed. The applause in the room had risen in volume, and she blushed again to realize she'd behaved in such a manner in front of a monk, half the country, and in the house of the Imperial Lord, no less. She couldn't account for what had come over her.

Kuchiki-taisho gave his father a heated look. "Will that do?"

Sojun chuckled.

When Byakuya took her hand and led her back down the hall, Rukia could do nothing but weakly follow. But she noticed the rose in her ring had come unfurled, spreading out into a glorious open blossom.

**~xXx~**

**Constructive criticism is always appreciated.**

*****THE PLAYLIST COMPETITION IS STILL IN MOTION! PLEASE SUBMIT TO ME YOUR SONGS IF YOU WISH TO COMPETE!*****


	3. Chapter 3

*****WARNING***: Byakuya and Rukia DANCING? If you no like believe, then don't read. **

*****NOTE***: I pictured the song "Becoming a Geisha" (0:00-2:48) from the **_**Memoirs of a Geisha **_**soundtrack for their chosen bash of a dance. I hope you enjoy it. **

**Byakuya dancing... ***chuckles*****

_**Chapter 3**_

Rukia sat at her wedding breakfast within the great hall of the Estate, still slightly dazed. Her new husband hadn't spoken a word to her in the short walk to the dining room. Indeed, he'd appeared to be furious with her... but surely she must have been mistaken, for the general would have to possess feelings for her to arouse them so.

When they'd arrived at the dining room, he'd turned back into the man with whom she'd become familiar. Cold, disinterested, and aloof. He sat across from her at the table, next to a beautiful woman with beautiful long hair and lustful brown eyes. He'd completely ignored his new wife in favor of this creature.

Sojun sat at the head of the table and leaned to his right to speak to Rukia. "That's my son's mistress, Tsuta-sama."

"..." Rukia dropped her spoon and it clanged atop the china. The rose on her wedding ring twisted into a tight bud. General Kuchiki finally turned to look at her. How dare he bring his mistress to their wedding breakfast? Is this how the court behaved? Well, she didn't give a fig what the others considered acceptable. She glared at her husband and his beautiful companion.

Again, a twitch of the lip. So she continued to amuse him, did she?

The Espada lord laughed. "Don't worry, my dear. You will have your husband's full attention until he gets you with child. He knows what's expected of him... as should you."

She heard the threat and squashed down her anger. She reminded herself that her marriage to the champion was nothing but a falsehood, a way to get close to the Espada lord. She must appear to be as cold and unconcerned as he. Rukia kept her voice steady. "I look forward to giving you a grandson, my lord."

Sojun scowled, the expression not diminishing his beauty one whit, and leaned back in his chair. "To hell with that. I want a new champion."

If Rukia had any doubts as to her new role, the Espada lord had just made it clear. If she didn't already have the task of killing her new father-in-law and- possibly- her husband, she'd surely wish to do so now.

Sojun tapped the triangular-shaped head of his scepter against his cheek, watching her with narrowed eyes. She didn't know what expression might be on her face and quickly bowed her head. She watched the room through her lashes, practicing the skill she'd nearly perfected over the years. Despite her position at the head table, she almost succeeded in making herself unnoticeable.

But she felt General Kuchiki's gaze fall on her time and again throughout the meal.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," said Sojun, "I grow bored. I daresay I can count on you to liven up the meal."

The lord in question sported a magnificent scowl, his long silvery hair hard to miss as Rukia focused her gaze onto the powerful male. His amber-like eyes narrowing. "Indeed, Imperial Lord."

Titters flowed up and down the crystal-laden table.

Lord Sesshomaru straightened his back, his appearance much taller than Rukia had first assumed. And quite, dare she think, quite handsome. "Although I may lack the necessary powers of an espada, or a shinigami, for that matter, I can assure you, great lord," and her his voice lowered a notch, "my skills are not to be trifled with."

Sojun nodded, but Rukia detected a slight stiffening in his posture. Surely the Espada lord couldn't be concerned about the legendary powers of his courtiers? Not when he held trials thrice a year to test the children born with demonic gifts.

And in Lord Sesshomaru's case, he wasn't just born with half of it. He was the real deal. His kind rare amongst society.

"Hmph."

All eyes and faces swiveled to the far end of the table where a tall, muscular, and dangerous-looking man sat, his powerful arms folded across his chest as if he'd just witness the most saddest display in all the world. His dark hair sticking straight out from behind his head and- Rukia blinked- where those bells dangling at the tips? Who the hell...?

Lord Sesshomaru looked at the man in question. "Something you wish to say, Kenpachi-taicho?"

The captain raised his head. A lone scar outlining the left side of his face. "Pathetic. You youkai truly are one of a kind, always rambling about skills and power, yet you lack the bravery to put on a show for us."

"Is that so?"

"Why don't you ask Lord Sojun? Swearing an allegiance was one thing, but to prove your worth otherwise..." And here Kenpachi smirked. Rukia swallowed.

"... I see." The demon lord closed his eyes momentarily, then amber irises flashed opened. "Then perhaps I should show you a demonstration of my 'bravery,' as you so eloquently put it, right here... right now."

Byakuya glanced at his wife.

"Gentlemen," Sojun laughed, "come now. Can't you see that we are in the middle of hosting a special meal for my son and his bride? But what's this? A challenge? Very well then..." he clapped his hands once, "I wish you both the best. May the gods be with you."

Captain Kenpachi smiled a sinister snarl as Lord Sesshomaru regarded him with boredom.

Rukia glanced at her father, who had sat on her other side as still as stone throughout the entire ordeal. His violet eyes had widened in stunned disbelief at the escalating tension he'd just witnessed.

"This is my wedding breakfast," she said to him.

He turned and gave her a look of apology, glanced at the Espada lord, patted her hand. "Best get used to the whims of the court, girl."

The two opponents abruptly stood to their feet. Kenpachi apparently had kept his sword unsheathed since the beginning of the meal. The guests cheered out in encouragement. Their voices escalating with excitement as they all began making bets, as if these baffling arguements-turned-fights were an ordinary occurrence during special occasions.

Sudden rage drove Rukia to her feet as well. Sojun glanced at her with an amused expression. Kuchiki-taisho watched the antics of his comrades with disdainful interest, like a man studying a group of monkeys at play. She slapped her hands on the table, rattling the china, finally gaining full notice of her husband. "No! This is my wedding breakfast," she repeated, but this time with such force that the courtiers froze, turning to stare at her as if she'd just sprouted horns.

Sojun stilled. The guests breathed in a collective breath.

"You've got spunk," said the Imperial Lord into the silence. "I'll give you that. But I find spunk amusing only in small doses, girl."

She felt his power throb like the beat of a heart. It made her knees weak, and she collapsed back into her chair. Slowly the other nobles regained their seats, wiped their faces streaming with port.

"Keh," Captain Kenpachi snorted, his eyes swiveling in between his intended target and the recently appointed Lady Kuchiki. He glared at Sesshomaru, "Wouldn't wanna rust my blade with your blood anyway."

Sheathing his huge weapon, he abruptly took his leave, his opponent regarding him with little to none interest as he sat back down in a dignified manner.

Kuchiki Byakuya continued to stare at Rukia, as if she'd turned into one of monkeys. Rukia gave him a look of entreaty.

Sojun snorted. "Don't expect support from that direction. If anything, my son's heart is colder than my own."

He said it with pride. Her husband's chin lifted with pride. Rukia prayed for guidance.

Sojun turned his attention to Rukia's father. "You there, Juushiro. Shinigami blood runs in your veins. Since your daughter has deprived me of entertainment, perhaps you can show us your own sills, hm?"

Father tried not to squirm. Tried not to look around at the other nobles. "You forget I have no power other than the gift of my charm, Your Most High." He told him sincerely, his smile weak.

Humphs of disgust from the gentleman. Titters of scorn from the ladies.

"Yet I'm sure I remember that your daughter has the gift of dance." Those glittering grey eyes narrowed. "She'd best have enough of the blood to breed true." His gaze pierced Rukia yet again. "So girl, it looks like it's up to yo to entertain me." He rose, a flutter of velvet and lace and deadly reiatsu. he clasped her shoulder and nearly dragged her from her chair, through the hall into the great entertainment chamber. Rukia shied away from his scepter, afraid it would accidentally brush against her skin. Rumor had it that no one could touch it but a true Espada lord, and she wouldn't relish finding out the truth of it.

Rukia could hear the excited whispers of the court as they followed.

Startled servants quickly dropped their tasks and vanished behind stately columns and cleverly hidden doors. The long tables at the end of the room appeared half-full. Weak light filtered in from double doors and the candles hadn't been lit yet, so the room lay shrouded in gloom. Sojun uttered a word and the ceiling lit with a blazing light, causing several of the musicians to break their strings while in the middle of their rehearsal.

Sojun hauled her into the middle of the floor. "Play," he commanded them.

They quickly organized themselves and struck up a tune while the lords and ladies spread around the room, vying for the best view.

Rukia swallowed. She'd made a complete muck of things and now he sought to punish her. Instead of impressing the Espada lord with her innocence and demure nature, she'd incited his anger... something she guessed few rarely did. But perhaps... perhaps she could turn this to her advantage. She could get close enough to the lord for a killing blow once her strength was enhanced by the music.

"Will you partner with me then, dearest father-in-law?"

He looked down his nose at her with disdain. "Byakuya!" he called. And he thrust Rukia into the arms of her new husband then strode across the polished floor to settle himself on his golden throne.

The music rose in volume and she felt it creep into her bones. Without further ado, General Kuchiki swept her into a dance, one that swirled her silk kimono across the floor, made the silver in her outfit sparkle like the sun's reflection on water.

Despite her annoyance at herself for inciting the Espada lord's wrath, she couldn't regret that her husband finally held her in his arms. He had strong, warm arms.

"I shall endeavor to behave better in the future," she said to him.

He didn't blink. Didn't shrug. Just danced her around the room like an angel of grace. His espada blood made his movements smooth and lithe, but she could tell he did not embrace the music. Did not become one with the magic of it, as she could.

She feared he had no feelings- but if he did, he surely regretted the choice of bride that had been thrust upon him. She had prayed for the wisdom to make him happy, but since he seemed to lack that emotion, she must seek to impress her husband, at the least, she must bridge this gap between them in some way.

So Rukia let the music swell through her. Her sock feet caught the rhythm and moved of their own accord. Her body swayed with the beat of the strings; her arms fluttered with the soulful sound of music. She felt Byakuya's intake of breath, and the dance between them subtly shifted. He still led- she doubted if it could have been otherwise- but his body molded to hers, and soon they did more than the practiced steps of the minuet. Motions that came from the music itself shaped their dance until what they performed no longer resembled any of the movements defined by man.

Rukia had danced only with Uryuu and her father. Neither of them possessed the noble grace the way her new husband did. She felt almost as if he became one with her, and she danced as she'd never done before, twirling around him to be caught again in his grasp, sliding across the floor by turn of their heels. He seemed to sense her next move and stayed with her, so she didn't fear that when she leaned back in an arch, he would not be there to catch her. That when she trailed her arms down his own and twirled at the tips of his fingers, he would not be ready to pull her back into his arms. She knew not what to call this dance they devised, but she felt sure it would shock the court.

She noticed her rose ring had blossomed again. Espada reishi, indeed. Did it predict so accurately her mood, then?

When the music finally ended and they swayed to a stop, not a sound could be heard within the vast room. Her husband looked at her then. Truly looked at her for the first time. But she could tell nothing of his thoughts from the cold glitter of his grey eyes.

"That's a very old dance," said Sojun. Rukia turned and saw the flicker of a smile on the Imperial Lord's face. "I never thought to see it performed as if I watched my own people at a fete in Hueco Mundo. You do indeed _dance_, Rukia-sama."

_You have no idea, _she thought.

She suspected that would be the highest praise she would receive and bowed, turned to see if she'd also managed to please her new husband, and realized she stood alone.

Indeed, she stayed alone throughout the entire day, except for the company of her father, wo kept a silent vigil by her side. Once, he managed to whisper to her, "Perhaps I have made a mistake in giving you over to this man." But Rukia quickly hushed him, assuring him all would be well. That her husband's heart would eventually warm to her, and he would seek her company.

Lady Tsuta pranced by at that moment in Byakuya's arms, her laughter denouncing Rukia a liar. Rukia didn't need to look at her ring to know it had tightened into a small bud again.

She plucked a small tea cup from one of the serving trays and downed the contents. It burned; she coughed but immediately felt better. She knew her marriage was nothing but a charade, that her new husband didn't have a heart. But she'd had enough humiliation for one day. And if she continued to attend a ball where her husband flaunted his mistress in her face, she would hate him. And that would not serve the Rebellion's cause one whit.

So she kissed her father and quietly left the ball, hesitating outside the grand room. She had no idea which direction to take. Up, most likely, and then perhaps she could ask a servant for the direction of the general's rooms.

From the corner of her eye she caught a furtive movement, quite like her own stealthy habit of slipping around door frames. Without thinking she reached out, snagging the shoulder of the boy's clothes. He struggled for a moment, gave a sight of defeat, and looked up at her with the largest hazel eyes Rukia had even seen.

"Don't be frightened," said Rukia. "I just need some directions."

The lad looked at her face, then down to a rice ball he held- which he'd obviously stolen from the banquet table- and quickly stuffed it into a ragged tear in his shirt.

"What's your name?"

"Do you need to know that?"

Rukia smiled. Cheeky little thing. "I suppose not, but I would like the pleasure of knowing whom I am addressing."

The formality of her request appeared to make an impression. Rukia released her hold and the boy squared his shoulders, smoothed back the ragged yellow locks of his tangled hair about his face, and bowed. "My name is Karin."

Rukia started. Well, at the age, and with the amount of dirt covering this child, she shouldn't be surprised she'd mistaken the gender.

"Did I offend you? I often try my best to disguise myself as a boy, but sometimes it hardly ever works."

"Ah, no. No, you have not offended me," Rukia smiled, "In fact, you disguised yourself quite well. How clever of you."

The child beamed. Rukia tried to suppress her discomfort. They employed servants in her home and at her school. The gentry considered it a show of their status that they could afford paid servants, and if they kept slaves, they were assigned the most menial tasks... and were hidden from view. So she didn't have much experience with slaves. The child looked ragged enough to have come from the tea houses of the East End of Karakura.

"Well, Karin, my name is Lady Kuchiki Rukia," she'd hesitated over her new surname, as if just remembering that she was married now, "but you may call me Lady Rukia. And I'm looking for General Kuchiki's bedchamber. Can you direct me?"

The girl looked up at her with speculative eyes. "If yer his new wife, than why ye leaving yer party so early? Did ye see all the food they laid out for ye?"

"I'm quite full, you see."

The child nodded in relief, as if glad Rukia hadn't neglected the feast. "Ye don't want to go to his old place, do ye? They gave him a new set of room, ye see."

"I see. You can direct me to the new rooms."

"Ye might get lost. I could take ye there, but I'm not really suppose to be up in them. I might get in trouble."

Rukia reached in the slit of her gown and pulled out a coin. "If anyone should stop us, I shall say you are my guide. And this will be for your trouble."

The coin disappeared as quickly as the rice ball had, and in the same place. "That's all right, then." The child skipped off. Rukia rushed to follow. "I'm suppose to stay in the kitchens, see. But I know me ways around. There's secret passages behind the walls, did ye know?"

Rukia shook her head and tried to look suitably impressed.

"The general showed me. He used to work in the kitchens too, when he was little."

"Used to work in the... wait, are you saying that you were... _existing_ at the time?" Impossible. This child and her husband were so very different between ages that even a blind person would be able to tell. Unless... "You have Shinigami blood."

Karin nodded. "Full-blooded."

Now that made a lot more sense. Since both the Shinigami and the Espada were well known with their longevity, it was no wonder this child appeared much younger than her actual age, and Byakuya only carried half of his father's blood. Interesting... "You say that my husband used to humor you with secret passageways?"

The child stopped at the winding staircase, the mahogany handrails polished to a brilliant shine, the treads carpeted in plush red. "I don't use these. The servants' stairs are back there." And she pointed to a closed door. "But I suppose it's all right since I'm with ye."

Rukia nodded and started up the stairs, the child right on her heels. "So you know the general, Karin?"

"Oh, aye. We like to call him champion, ye know. But only when he ain't around, 'cause he don't like it."

Rukia waited, hoping the girl wouldn't need any further prodding.

"He don't pay us no mind either. But he like to snatch food from the cook, says it's a habit he can't break." They had reached the landing, and Karin pointed down a long hall. "This here floor is for guests. Yer one more up."

Rukia nodded and started up again.

"He doesn't like us none. He doesn't like anyone."

"I hope he'll like me, Karin."

"Maybe. But he don't seem to like the women he sleeps with neither. At least, that's what Cook says."

Rukia thought she might take a little trip to the kitchens on the morrow and meet this Cook. She couldn't imagine that the churlish general went to the kitchens for nostalgia. What might be his true purpose?

"Don't worry about not knowing him, Rukia-sama. Nobody does, that's what Cook says. Now me, I think the dragon knows him. He spends a lot of time up there in the tower."

"With Sojun's dragon-steed?" What would he want with such a dread beast?

"Aye, his name's Ador, and I'm scared of him. But I don't think the general's scared of nothing."

"Indeed."

"But if I had the champion's power, maybe I wouldn't be scared neither. Plus, I can find lost stuff. If ye ever need anything found, just let me know."

They had reached the second landing, and the child skipped in front of Rukia, taking lead down the vast hall. Urns filled with blue fire lit the passage and gave it an eerie glow. Treasures littered the cabinets and niche in the walls, and Rukia vowed to explore them in the light of day. But for now her guide hurried her along.

Karin stopped at two large double doors covered in glit. "This is where yer new rooms are. I haven't been inside yet; they just finished with them."

Rukia nodded and reached for the gold handle.

Karin tugged at Rukia's kimono. "Down there," she whispered, pointing a grubby finger at the end of the corridor, "is the Imperial Lord's rooms. Nobody's ever been in there, 'cept maybe the general. Don't go there, Lady Rukia. There's things in there that'll eat ye if Sojun don't flame ye first."

Rukia frowned, wondering if Sojun had started the rumor to ensure his privacy. If it was indeed a rumor.

"But don't ye worry about the champion hurting ye. He don't flame women or children."

For some reason Rukia didn't feel reassured by that statement. "Would you like to come inside with me, Karin?"

Those hazel eyes widened even farther. "Oh aye, my lady." Then she hastily added, "Cook says my curiosity will get me flogged one day."

"They flog you?"

"Yes. Ye can do anything ye want with a slave. We don't have rights, you see. Ye don't seem to know much, lady. Where did ye come from anyway?"

Rukia smiled. "A private school."

"Not a very good priestess, then." She sucked in a sharp breath, and added, "No offense, my lady. Cook says I talk too much. Probably get flogged for that someday too."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," muttered Rukia as she pushed open the door. She walked into what might have been a parlor if it had held more than two chairs by the fireplace and a footstool. She went into the adjacent room, which looked to be a private dining room by the bare table sitting in the middle of it. Another door led into a small sitting room, which held another door that led into an empty bedchamber with two bare bedsteads. Beyond the sitting room lay the master bedchamber, boasting a large box bed with black drapery, a wardrobe, and her own trunks. A small door led to a washroom, with a wooden seat above the chamber pot and washstand. She hadn't been sure what to expect after the glorious richness within the rest of the palace, but the austerity of the apartments rivaled that of her boarding rooms. At least there, furnishings from home had surrounded her.

The only light came from the fireplace, so Rukia lit a candle and viewed her rooms again. They did not improve with illumination.

"The general doesn't like frippery," piped Karin. "He says it makes ye soft."

"I see. Does he not like servants as well?"

"He makes do for himself, 'cause he says- "

"It makes him soft; yes, Karin. I understand." Rukia walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it with a bounce. Hard, of course. "Well, at least he allows servants to make the bed and lay the fire. I'm glad you came with me. At least I have someone to undo my layers."

Karin frowned. "I don't have much practice with those, my lady, but I'm fast learner."

Rukia eyed Karin, a sudden brilliant idea forming in her head. "I believe you are. I find I'm in need of servants, Karin. How would you like to work for me?"

The child rocked back on her heels. "Oh, my lady. Ye can't go hiring slaves. The servants won't stand for it."

Rukia swept her head about the room. "I don't see any here to complain."

"But, but... the Imperial Lord won't like it."

_The Imperial Lord can kiss my virtuous ass. _And Rukia certainly couldn't afford to anger him any further. "Well, then. I won't officially pay you. But if you are to attend me, I shall have to buy you new clothes and fatten you up a bit, for a lady cannot have you waiting on her looking as you do now."

Karin screwed up her face. "I suppose not."

"That's settled, then. In fact, I'll visit the kitchens tomorrow, for surely I will need more than one helper."

"If... if yer sure, my lady."

"Quite. Now, for your first instruction," Rukia squatted, and showed her back. "Reach towards the knot of the bow and tug until you feel the sash loosen."

"I know how," Karin said in disgust. "Just don't have much practice." The girl's little fingers started fumbling, and Rukia suppressed a giggle because it tickled. "Wow, you nobles have it hard, don't ya!" karin laughed.

"I'm sure you're up to the task."

"Oh, yes. This is much easier than turning a pig roast."

Rukia continued to laugh while Karin helped her undress. The lacing of her kimono proved too difficult for the child to undo, but nevertheless, she made the best of her effort. She'd purchased a lovely yukata to please her new husband, but despite Sojun's assurances, she felt sure the general would be spending the night with his mistress so it wouldn't signify anyway.

Rukia crawled up on the hard bed and yawned.

"Is there anything else I can do for ye, lady?"

"No, I think it's time you were off to bed yourself. Tomorrow we will see about making up the servants' bedchamber for you, but tonight I'm afraid you'll have to go back to the kitchens."

"Oh, I can sleep anywhere. Sometimes I go to the kennels with the dogs when it's cold."

Rukia widened her eyes in horror. "That's it, we're going to give you a good scrubbing before you return."

Karin returned her look of horror. "But the water will make me sick."

I promise it won't. The ladies at my school were taught better."

Karin humphed, already having given her opinion of Rukia's education, but dragged her feet to the door. "I suppose," she sighed, "It will be hard to work for ye."

"I suppose." Rukia yawned again. The stress of the day seemed to have caught up with her. Despite the hardness of the bed, she found herself falling back onto it.

"Yep, likely to be more of a chore 'n scraping vegetables." The patter of her bare feet sounded all the way to the double doors leading out to the hall. Rukia realized she should see about the shoes for the girl as well.

Karin's voice drifted through the quiet length of rooms. "Ye won't forget to come fetch me, will ye?"

"Of course not, Karin," called Rukia, then added in a murmur, "I'll need all the help I can get."

And with that assurance, the door closed with a rattle, and alone in a strange room, Rukia chided herself. What did she think she was doing? Setting up a household as if she had a right to. Why did she have to keep reminding herself that her marriage was nothing more than a falsehood That this would never be her home, nor would she ever wish it to be. She had a larger task than improving the lives of a few slaves; indeed, she had the means to free them all. If she succeeded.

But it could be months before she found the right opportunity. Her mind balked at the thought that it could be years, for she couldn't imagine living years with these heathen people in this dreadful place. Besides, she had resigned herself to a short life. And the herbs she used to prevent a child might not be as reliable as she hoped. No, she could not be this situation for long.

"But still," she whispered to the empty halls, "I will have to have my layers undone in the meantime."

And with those words she must have dozen off, for a sudden loud noise made her jump in the bed, blink sleepily at the hearth. Late night or early morning, she could not take her pick, but hadn't the time to decide before a large shadow entered the room. Her husband had decided to forgo his mistress tonight after all. Rukia's heart started pounding, and all the vestiges of sleep fled as General Byakuya Kuchiki's cold gaze surveyed the room and then finally settled on her.

"Take off your clothes."

Great gods. Rukia could only stare at him in sheer horror.

"Are you deaf, wife? I said undress." He stood with his arms folded, in nothing but low-cut hakama pants. Had he shed his clothes on the way to their chamber, or were they strewn about his mistress's room?

Rukia hoped that neither of them was the case. The thought managed to pump a bit of anger through her. Another humiliation to add to the ones he'd already subjected her to today. "You desire me, my husband?"

She thought he scowled, but it might have been her imagination, for the candle she'd lit had burned down, and she had only the light from the dying fire to see him.

"So it would seem."

He started for her and fear locked in her throat. When he stood close enough to touch, she began to tremble. She'd heard the other girls in school whisper about the act. Nothing she'd heard had prepared her for this moments. Her husband was a horrible monster and would show her no mercy. She didn't know whether to scream or kill him.

**~xXx~**

**Constructive criticism is always appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE: Yuzu is now Karin in this fanfic. For reasons why, Karin is a lot tougher. **

**The playlist competition is still going on folks. Select your perfect picks and send them to me if you wish.**

******LEMON CONTENT AHEAD. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED******

*****ALSO***: The love-making segment was inspired by one of the sex scenes from the Korean movie **_**A Frozen Flower. **_**While... erm... not one of my favorites (for a lot of reasons) this particular scene in the movie made me think of Rukia and Byakuya in this sort of position. You can find the full movie on Youtube. It is the SECOND love scene between the Queen of Korea and her husband's most trusted of captains. (Actually, the king in this movie is gay, but is persuaded to hurry up and sire an heir, so... since he doesn't want to sleep with his wife, he gets his lover ***who's bisexual*** to sleep with her, and then a forbidden romance appears and yadda, yadda yadda).**

**On with the show!**

_**Chapter 4**_

Rukia could do neither. Nor could she afford to hate him, as much as she would like to. It would not serve the Rebellion's cause.

"Stay still," he ordered. She obeyed and braced herself, expecting him to rip open her yukata. But his fingers barely touched her skin, his hands gentle as he untied the silky bow of her sash. Then he made a noise in his throat, and Rukia glanced up at him.

Gods, how she wished he weren't so beautiful. The firelight gleamed in his his midnight hair, danced along the muscled planes of his naked chest. His eyes appeared enormous in the half-light, dark and mysterious and capable of stealing her soul. Her fear of him didn't stop her from wanting to run her hands down that smooth, tan skin just to feel the texture of it.

His lips quirked at her inspection and her eyes flew to his mouth, remembering his kiss, wondering if he would kiss her again. Hoping and dreading it all at the same time.

He reached out, seized the cloth at the shoulders of her robe, and pushed it off of her.

Rukia gasped and tried to cover herself with her hands.

"Don't," he said, then spread his arms, and Rukia felt the force of his spiritual pressure. The fire flared to new life, lighting up the room, making her blink. She hadn't realized the strength of his power and it made her fear him all the more.

She kept her arms by her sides by sheer force of will, feeling a flush crawl up her body to her face. He studied her the same way she had him; but she had only a touch of the Espada blood, couldn't compare herself to his beauty, and feared he found her lacking.

Her goal had been to please her new husband, to gain his trust if not his affection. Rukia lifted her chin. She needed to stop acting like some innocent child and try to please him but didn't have the faintest idea how to go about doing that. Why hadn't Uryuu taught her how to manage this?

"Lie down," he said as he moved to the other side of the bed, released the tie from around the canopy curtain. The black cloth fell, casting her into shadow, making it easier to lie flat on her back, her body exposed to his gaze. He untied the curtain at the foot of the bed but held it for a moment, his hard gaze fastened on her rigid body.

"Spread your legs."

_Oh, gods. Please help me._

He would have view of... She couldn't do it. The thought of her most private area exposed to his emotionless gaze set her trembling even harder. Did her purposely seek to embarrass her? Or did his mistress treat him to the sight this evening and he expected only the same from her?

"I... I can't."

His mouth twitched. "Don't you want to please your husband?"

"No. I mean, yes! I mean- "

He laughed, allowed the curtain to fall, cutting him off from view. "You are the innocent I was promised," he said from behind the barrier of the drapery, his voice low and muffled. "Well done, Father."

When he appeared again next to her, she suppressed a yelp and chided herself. Her fear would only make this worse. She closed her eyes and froze. She would just hold still and endure. That's what the other girls in the temple had advised each other. There would be some pain, but if one held still and silent, the man would finish all the more quickly.

And right now, all Rukia could hope for was a quick end to her husband's attention.

The fire subsided to a normal glow and he sat next to her, dropped the one remaining curtain, shutting them inside the box bed, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the room, the rest of the world. Plunging them into complete darkness.

Nothing could save Rukia now.

She widened her eyes, unable to see a thing, hoping he couldn't either regardless of his superior sight. It made her relax a bit, feel a little less exposed. She heard him move, felt the warmth of his fingers touch her arm.

Rukia jumped then froze.

She waited for him to give her another order. Waited for him to violate her with that cold harshness he always used with her.

But his hand trailed up her neck, gently stroking, smoothing back her tousled hair. His touch sent little shivers racing through her body and she gritted her teeth against the shock of it. He stilled, and she could hear only her little pants, the smooth rhythm of his breathing. She sensed a change in him, felt him relax, as if he released some barrier and it eased him.

Then he curled one arm beneath her shoulders and his other beneath her bottom and gathered her up against the smooth warmth of his chest. He held her there for the longest time, until her trembling eased and her muscles went lax. Until she slowly became aware of the hardening length of him beneath her backside.

He smelled like some exotic spice and she breathed in the delicious scent. She could feel the beat of his heart, and it comforted her that although he looked like an angel, he felt very much like an ordinary man.

Her husband kissed her hair and it made her tremble, but not with fear this time. With something else, a wanting she couldn't quite define. And then he rolled them over, and Rukia tensed against the soft mattress beneath her back. His lips trailed kissed down her brow and the heat of them, the tender feel of his mouth...

But she would not kiss him back.

He shifted with an irritated breath, and she barely noticed, too intent on the feelings his kiss evoked. She moaned, the sound loud in the silence of their cocoon, and lifted her arms, curling them around his broad shoulders. She could feel the strength of his muscles beneath the silk of his skin, could tell he held that strength in check. For her.

The realization emboldened her. Since the first time she had seen him, she'd longed to touch that raven hair. Her hands slid to his neck and she buried her fingers in the silky softness of it. Fine as the strand of a spider's web, but so thick it created a heavy fall that reached the lower part of his shoulders. Rukia stroked it, resisting the urge to purr with utter delight.

She didn't know when his hand had covered her breast. When the warmth of his palm finally penetrated her senses, she didn't start or tremble with fear. She moaned and pressed against his touch. His mouth slipped away from hers, traveled down her throat. He shifted her and pressed kisses along her collarbone, and then lower until she felt his mouth replace his hand, circling her nipple.

"Aggh!" Rukia cried out softly, her fingers clenching in his hair when he drew her nipple into his mouth. She had never imagined such a thing. Couldn't have anticipated the holt that went through her. As he drew on her bud again and again, her body responded with an answering ache of need. Rukia squirmed with the want of it, not understanding what was happening to her but hoping he knew how to soothe it.

He continued to hold her with one arm, arching her back, turning his attention to her other breast. It happened all over again and Rukia moaned.

Then he touched her thigh, spreaded his fingers wide, and smoothed his large hand down over her knee, then to her calf. Her attention strayed from his mouth for a moment. No one had ever touched her so intimately before and yet it seemed as natural as if he had always owned the right to her body.

And then he stroked her other leg with the same rhythmic movements, came back to her thigh, and hesitated a moment.

_This... _she gritted her teeth as he gently began planting kisses down her chest and stomach. She closed her eyes shut. _What is this that I'm feeling? How can he make me...?_

Rukia unclenched her fingers from his hair, choosing to run them through his raven tresses a few more times, before she abruptly clasped his face in both hands before he went any farther below. She pulled him over, felt his body shift as he hovered his head over hers, their breaths mingling together as he braced a strong forearm over her head and onto the mattress while the other rested against her ear. Her violet eyes gazing up at him, pleading.

His mouth found hers. And this time, she eagerly opened for him, welcoming the raspy feel of his tongue, the salty-sweet taste of him. This time Rukia pressed herself against him, tightening her hold around his neck, wanting him closer and feeling he still wasn't close enough.

She felt his hand cover the triangle of hair between her legs. She would have flushed with embarrassment if she hadn't been so involved in learning how to kiss him properly. He stroked her mouth with his tongue int he same gentle movements that he stroked her down hair with his fingers. He did it long enough that when his fingers dipped lower, Rukia had become so used to his touch that she barely flushed at the intrusion. He slid a finger deep inside of her and the sensations made her break the kiss with a gasp.

She wanted to push his hand away, wanted him to stroke her more deeply.

Rukia froze in confusion.

But the general had no doubts about what she wanted. His fingers continued to fondle while he buried his face in her neck, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin there. Making her entire body come alive with some need that soon had Rukia bucking against his hand, clutching desperately at his muscular shoulders.

She had never imagined the act of making children would be like this. Rukia couldn't grasp what had happened to her. He made her body feel things it had never felt before, and heaven help her, she loved it.

His fingers grew so slick with her wetness that when he sought the nub hidden within her downy hair, it brought wonderful new sensations coursing through her. A sudden tightening replaced the deeper longing that had risen in her womb. What new magic did her perform on her now?

Tiny tremors shook her as she squirmed beneath his touch. Something lay just within her reach, something that built within her, and Rukia couldn't imagine what it might be. But shouldn't she be doing the same to him? Shouldn't she be discovering his body as well? She couldn't learn to please him too if she didn't try.

Her hands drifted down his shoulders, across his chest. Smooth, hot skin. Rigid muscles beneath. Her fingertips grazed his nipples, and she wondered if he would experience the same pleasure that she had. She gently pushed at his chest until he lifted his head and she could bring her own mouth to his neck. In the darkness she missed and found her lips on the curve of her skin that defined the middle of his chest. He tasted salty and clean. Like spring water and ocean spray all at the same time.

Rukia found the peak of his nipple and sucked it the same way he'd done hers.

Byakuya groaned. A deep sound that she felt rumble in his chest, on her lips.

And then he pulled away from her.

For a moment her heart stopped. Had she displeased him then? She feared to ask. Just listened to the harshness of his breathing as he seemed to struggle for control. Then he laughed, a low chuckle that made the hair on her body rise. "You learn quickly, don't you?" he whispered.

She opened her mouth to respond, but in one graceful movement his entire body covered the length of hers, and she sucked in a breath at the heat of him. The sheer strength and size of his body atop hers. But he didn't crush her. He kept his full weight suspended above her, while touching every inch of her body with the heat of his skin.

Rukia sighed.

"Spread your legs," he whispered into her ear. But this time, it wasn't a command. It sounded almost like..a plea. A prayer.

Her heart gave a funny little twist and she moved her legs, felt him settle between them. Felt something round and hard and soft and exhilarating prod at the wetness he'd created between her thighs. Felt the resistance within her as he pushed forward. Felt it break as she forgot to be frightened and bucked up to meet him, a small exhalation of pain escaping through her lips.

And then the pain faded and the general taught her a new dance. A dance she never could have conceived of, that held the beauty and grace and a desperate longing to somehow make two people become one. A dance so intimate that she thought she felt his very soul.

Rukia threw back her head and gloried in the sensations he made her feel. No, she could never imagine anything like this. The feel, the smell, the strength of him...

She wrapped her arms around hsi shoulders and buried her fingers in his hair again. One moment she thought him a devil and then the next, an angel, and she truly couldn't decide what sort of man she had married.

He took long strokes inside her, making that deep ache in her womb grow again, this time even more fiercely. Rukia clenched her teeth against the need to cry out, to demand that he dance faster, harder. She needed... she needed...

He abruptly halted the dance and pulled his upper body away from hers, tearing her arms away from him, and she knew him to be a devil.

His hand sought the nub just above where their bodies joined, stroking it with a gentle finger while he took up the rhythm of the dance again, and she knew him to be an angel.

Because now the fierce longing in her womb joined with another feeling, one that made her shiver, made her squirm beneath him, and she could no longer hold back her cries. And then. And then the world split asunder and a wave of glorious pleasure ripped through her, like a swelling tide that continued to rie and fall, rocking her on a tempest of radiant delight.

"Oh," she cried, startled and amazed.

The demon laughed. He pulled his hand away and lowered his chest atop hers again, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her lips. Then he lunged inside of her so swiftly, so deeply, that she thought it would hurt. But somehow he knew, knew it was exactly what she needed, knew she would encompass the full length of him.

Indeed, Rukia fought for more.

She clutched his shoulders, lifted her hips up to meet his. Her fingers roughly tangled in his hair, and she wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his bottom, forcing him ever deeper inside her. She didn't beg, she demanded.

And her husband complied with growl of feral pleasure.

The world split asunder for Rukia again, but this time, it was a deeper pleasure. As she rode it, she felt Byakuya's body stiffen, heard his intake of breath, and then he shook as well, his harsh pants mingling with her own sighs. His release made her buck against him again, take him deeper, as if she sought to take his seed completely into her womb.

Rukia came to herself again with a start. Despite what her body urged, she couldn't afford to become pregnant. How could she have forgotten so easily the reason she'd married this man?

She lay beneath him for a time, fighting for calm, until she finally nudged him to roll off her and he allowed it, landing heavily on the hard bed. Rukia fought at the bed curtain until she found the opening, then slipped outside and into the cooler air of the room. She took a few deep breaths, fighting for her sense of self again. How had he managed to make her lose it?

She looked down at her naked body in the firelight and grimaced. Uryuu should have warned her about this. But how could he have known this cold Espada bastard could light such a fire within her? She had never suspected her new husband would be such a gentle lover. Uryuu surely wouldn't have.

It was some time later before Rukia waited, listening to the even breathing behind the curtained bed. Thank the gods, it sounded as if the general had drifted off to sleep. She wasn't sure she could withstand his attentions again. Her heart thrummed at the thought and she chided her body to behave itself.

Standing up, she reached for her fallen yukata and wrapped it around her body once more. Once she made sure the knot was tied firm, she retrieved her bag of herbs as she hung a pot over the fireplace. The flames cackling softly. She should have brought more of her belongings with her, by the look of things. After she acquired some servants she would go shopping.

She stoked the fire and her wedding ring glinted, the rose open to a full blossom. While she waited for her tea to steep she stared at the black curtain, wondering what type of man she had truly married. In public he treated her coldly, yet the moment he'd closed the curtains behind them he had touched her so gently. Had prepared her so skillfully for his lovemaking. She'd barely felt any pain and her shyness had fled with his ministrations.

There appeared to be more to General Kuchiki Byakuya than he allowed others to see. Could she possibly gain enough of his trust to allow her to use him?

Rukia's head spun in useless conjecture while she sipped her tea, then tucked the herbs back into her trunk and finally returned to the bed. She slowly parted the curtains, the glow of the fire revealing the nude body of her sleeping husband. Her breath caught.

She'd felt every inch of him and yet hadn't seen him at all. That thick black hair of his- which had felt like spun silk in her hands- parted slightly over the slope of his ears and spread out around him a midnight sea. He lay on his back, one arm thrown above his head, his face softer asleep, the angles less harsh. His pale skin appeared to glow in the darkness, highlighting the muscles of his chest, the ridges in his abdomen. The long sinews in his thighs. She averted her gaze from the part of him that had brought her so much pleasure, and blushed. She hadn't the boldness for that. Not after one night.

Suddenly his lids flew open, that grey gaze of his seeming to swallow her whole, seeming to know her every thought. The fire reflected in the crystalline brilliance of his eyes and Rukia shuddered. He was so very beautiful.

"You're cold," he said, his voice deep and low.

She nodded and crawled into the shelter, lay down next to him as rigidly as her favorite parasol. Then she heard the bed covers move and felt the heat of him against her back. He pulled her against him, his mouth nuzzling her hair, his arms enfolding her in a gentle cage of firm muscle. He sighed and slowly resumed the deep, even breath of sleep.

Rukia lay awake for a long time, listening to that oddly comforting sound.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. You guys rock. Especially you, **_Snowberrii, _**for never failing to leave me the best constructive criticism thus far. **

_**Chapter 5**_

She awoke the next morning alone. Parted the curtains around the bed and squinted at the brilliant sunlight. It looked as if she'd slept half the day away, an unusual occurrence for her. She slipped from the bed and padded through the rooms. No sign of her new husband, not even the slightest trace of a dropped glove or a dirty tea-cup. Gods, he did manage to take care of himself without need of a servant.

A knock sounded at the door and she nearly ran to open it. But only Karin stood outside the hallway and Rukia struggled to suppress her frown of disappointment.

Karin bowed low. "Morning, my lady. I got to thinking ye might need help with yer sash. 'Cause how can ye come fetch me if ye can't get dressed proper?"

"You were right to come," replied Rukia, stepping aside to let the waif in.

Together they'd chosen a purple kimono that set off Rukia's stunning eyes perfectly. A few moments later, Karin found it difficult enough to tie the obi of Rukia's kimono, which remained looser than she usually wore them, and she could see the tip of the girl's tongue as she concentrated on lacing the pieces together. But in a surprisingly short time Rukia was finally clothed.

"Hmm," she studied her reflection in the mirror before her, fingers squished under her chin in concentration. Finally she sighed, picking up a small comb. "I suppose I'll have to do something with my hair."

"I think you have beautiful hair," Karin commented, blushing a little.

Rukia smiled at her through the reflection of her mirror as she ran the comb through her thick locks. She kept her hair short for many reasons, but at times it would be annoyingly difficult to handle. Plus, many of the ladys in court wore their hair in stylish piles to make an impression. A practice in which Rukia herself will have to get accustomed to. "Well," she relented and stood, shoving a stubborn lock off her forehead again. "I suppose I'll need a hairdresser."

Karin practically leaped to her toes. "My friend Senna does weaving near as fine as you can get."

"I'm not sure- "

"Oh, she does all the horses' tails for the grand processions. And," Karin lowered her voice to a mere whisper, "I've seen her weave the sunlight, my lady. Truly I have."

"Alright then," Rukia beamed at the girl, hands planted firmly on her hips. "Let's go find your friend Senna and see if her talented fingers can be trained to a lady's coiffure."

She headed towards the door, but stopped short after noticing that her normally chatty companion suddenly fell silent and unmoving. She glanced over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. "What's wrong?"

"You're not going to put on make-up?"

Oh, Rukia grimaced, that. "It's really not my style, and something I'm not overly fond of using. Come now, Karin. We have a lot to do today."

Thank the heavens she had the girl for a guide, for she couldn't yet make sense of the sprawling layout of the Estate. It seemed to be designed purposely to confuse, and priceless artifacts and items lay at every corner. Stationary walls appeared to breathe and shift, mirrors reflected imaginary scenes with her face floating inside them, carpets flowed like water, and ceilings trembled, threatening to come down upon her head. Karin cautioned her not to touch this or that, and Rukia could only wonder if the griffin statue would have come alive and pecked off her fingers if she had stroked that mighty beak. Or would it be capable of doing something much worse? The Espada lord protected his palace in subtle ways and had an odd sense of humor, so Rukia obeyed the young slave girl's advice.

Her unusual companion drew only a few startled looks from the nobles they passed, but Rukia still breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the kitchens. She must get Rukia suitably attired before any gossip spread.

Cook stood a head taller than herself, a robust woman with rosy cheeks and matching hair. She wielded her spoon like a sword, but it seemed most of her helpers had acquired a certain skill at dodging it. Roasts stewed and pastries baked, and the delicious aromas made Rukia think that Cook had a bit of Shinigami blood herself.

"So," she said, eyeing Rukia with a frown, "yer the champion's new bride."

Rukia froze, feeling as if the other woman sought tos trip her bare and expose her soul.

"Ye just might do."

"Indeed?" snapped Rukia, refusing to let a servant weigh her worth.

"No offense, my lady. It's just glad I am that the champion to take care of him now."

Rukia's annoyance evaporated in the hopes of finding out more about her new husband. "I've never met a man _less in need of being taken care of, Cook_. Why would you say such a thing?"

Cook leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper, strands of red hair flopping over her forehead. "Have you not heard that appearances can be deceiving? Haven't you wondered what made the man so cold?"

"It's the Espada blood."

"Yes, so do many think. But consider his father, lady, and why he might need to act the way he does. Ask the general about Kaien... No, he wouldn't speak of his best friend. Ask him about Mutt, my lady. He might talk of him."

Rukia's head spun. General Kuchiki had a friend? The espada did not make friends, possessed with such cold hearts. And Uryuu had told her that her husband had no friends. Kaien must be a part of the general's childhood, yet what had happened to alter him so in his adulthood that he now spurned all friendships? And w ho might this Mutt be?

"A dog," said Rukia. "Kuchiki-taisho has a pet?"

"Oh yes, he once had- " Cook spun and whacked a small lad with her spoon. "Tomoya! I told you to keep your fingers outta the sweet cakes!" She cast her gaze about the kitchen suspiciously. "The champion once had many things, Kuchiki-sama. And perhaps you will be the one to give them back to him. But please, don't breathe a word of what I said to none other than himself."

The woman straightened and raised her voice. "I'm sorry, m'lady, but what with the champion's marriage guests, I don't have the time to sit and chat. I've been cookin' all morning."

Cook had looked at the brick walls as if they had ears. Rukia took the hint. "We've come only to find Senna."

Cook's red brows climbed up her broad forehead. "Has she done something wrong? That girl's always neglecting her duties and- "

The kitchen door flew open and an older girl with Karin's coloring flew into the room. "Cook, look what I made for you!" And she held out a shawl that glittered in the morning sunshine flooding through the open door. Rukia had never seen anything like the pale gray material before. Senna draped it over Cook's shoulders. "See, it will not fall off while you're stirring!"

Cook eyed the thing suspiciously. "What's it made of this time?"

Senna's hazel eyes sparkled. "Spider's webs. Ah, they're tricky to weave, mind you, but I managed to figure out how. You see- "

"Ugh," Cook made a face, removing the scarf from her shoulders with the handle of her spoon. "You were supposed to be fetching parsley for the stew."

Senna's face fell. "Oh... I forgot. I'll go back to the garden right now."

"Never mind," huffed Cook. "You'll probably come back with a fine green hat like the foreigners wear. Besides, this lady over here wishes to speak with you." She turned back to her oven while Senna's eyes widened as she looked at Rukia.

But before Rukia could speak, Karin darted over to Senna's side and yanked on the older girl's ragged kimono. "I told the lady that you could make her hair real pretty and she wants to bring us upstairs to wait on her."

Senna's eyes widened even farther. "But the servants- "

"The lady says she doesn't see servants in her rooms to bother with."

"Karin," admonished Rukia, "allow me to get a word in. I find myself in need of assistance, Senna-san, and if Cook allows it, I would like you both to come and live in my new apartments."

Senna gasped, wavered on her feet for a moment, then settled a wistful gaze on Rukia's hair. Oh, my... it's pretty difficult to work with, huh?" And her fingers began to twitch.

Rukia gulped.

Cook glanced up at the three of them and harrumphed. "Both of those girls are nothing but a bother to me. If you want them, I have no objection."

Karin ran to Cook and gave her a hug, then darted to Senna's side, yanking at her hand. "Let's get our things before either one of them changes their mind."

Rukia followed them to the back of the kitchens into the small storage room that held two cots made of woven grass. She waited while they gathered their meager belongings, trying not to breathe too deeply of the musty smell of rotting vegetables. "Are you sisters?" she wondered aloud.

"No."

"You look so similar."

"It's the Shinigami blood. We both got too much of it in our looks." She sighed. "But not enough in our blood to be sent to the Soul Society, huh Senna? I wonder what it's like there, with trees that weep of cherry blossoms and skies that rain wine and- "

"Are you sure we should be doing this, Karin? What of the champion?"

"Ah Senna, you know he doesn't give a fig about anyone."

"But he notices everything. And the servants knows he goes to the kitchens, so he makes sure we're tidy and have proper beds and Cook has clean kitchens..."

Rukia kept her mouth shut closed and let the girls continue to talk, although her mind spun with questions. Byakuya had grown up in the kitchens, neglected by all accounts. Did he visit to make sure the other slaves weren't treated as badly as he had been? Or did he just come here from habit Rumor has it he cared for nothing but the games, and yet his lovemaking had been so gentle. Was she trying to credit him with some human feeling because of that? What manner of man had she truly married?

"You worry too much, Senna."

"But when he finds us in his rooms... You know he doesn't like servants about."

"But I do," interjected Rukia. "And I've made up my mind. Now, if you've got all of your things, we shall go shopping."

Both Karin and Senna stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes narrowing in speculation. "Shopping?"

Rukia smiled. "Shopping."

**~xXx~**

When Rukia joined the court at dinner later that evening, she felt exhausted but entirely pleased with herself. While certainly not the most fashionable sense befitting for a servant, Karin and Senna looked quite lovely with their new kimonos- although Karin had stubbornly fought the need to be snuggled by a sash. But they both vowed they would happily get used to their new situation. New feather mattresses and linens for their beds had sent both girls into complete rapture, and Rukia made all the rooms much more comfortable with the addition of mahogany tables and plush velvet chairs and soft tapestries to adorn the walls.

With a sigh of satisfaction, the Lady Kuchiki entered the dining hall, smoothing the folds of her smooth layers and knowing she looked her best. Senna indeed have magical fingers, arranging Rukia's hair into curls and weaves without benefit of a single clip. She missed the comfort of her ordinary robes but decided the look on her husband's face when her saw her would be worth the trouble.

She'd been entirely wrong.

When the general looked up at her standing in the doorway, he looked right through her. Rukia's heart did a leap at the sight of him in a white satin coat trimmed with silver, his black hair brushed in a smooth fall about his broad shoulders. His handsome face looked hard and implacable, but she remembered the gentle softness of his lips on hers and started toward him as if pulled on a string.

She waited to be near him. She yearned for just the touch of his hand upon her chin.

He stood. She sucked in a breath as he headed in her direction. And then let loose with a gasp as he strode by her and picked up the hand of the Lady Tsuta, leading the woman over to his chair to sit beside him.

Rukia heard the titters of the other nobles at the blatant rebuff. It took all of her courage to settle into the same chair she had the previous day. Across from her husband and mistress. Next to the smiling Lord Sojun.

Had she truly given some human attributes to her husband's character? If he'd shown some gentleness in his lovemaking it had been only a ruse... or her imagination. He had awakened her body to pleasure and she'd overreacted, thinking some feeling must lie behind the act. She felt like a fool for thinking he'd allow her to rush into his arms this evening. That he'd been as enchanted with her as he had been with him. She'd even thought he had some generous motive to his visits to the kitchens.

His blood ran as cold as his father's. She'd best get over her attraction to his angelic beauty and remember that he was a demon in disguise.

"You've barely touched your food," said Lord Sojun, leaning close to her. "You'll need you strength, dear girl."

Rukia fought the urge to move away from him. Two demons sat at the table, and she'd best not forget it. With a nod, she lifted a chopstick full of rice to her mouth, trying not to choke as the mash slid down her throat.

"That's better." He sat back, those grey glittering eyes studying the guests, his mouth twisted into a mocking smile. "Lords and ladies," he began, barely raising his voice. Yet they all turned to him as one, even those at the end of the long table. "Tomorrow your champion will fetch the king and his courtiers. A toast to Kuchiki-taisho!"

They rose, a clatter of screeching chair legs and clinking clay cups. Apparently Rukia didn't stand fast enough, the gentleman at her side scowled and hissed at her, "Get up, you fool."

Rukia bristled at his tone. How dare he speak to her that way? And yet, what better treatment could she expect when her husband set the example for the court? She rose and pretended to sip her rice wine until the full implications of the Espada lord's words hit her; then she drained the cup.

Not that she gave a damn about the king's coming to Karakura. But his captain, Kurosaki Ichigo, would be with him. Even to speak to the leader of the Rebellion would bring her a great amount of comfort, which she most assuredly needed right now. And it might be possible to have a private moment alone with him on the road, something she might not manage within the walls of the palace.

Rukia suppressed a smile. She could turn her obvious fascination with her new husband to her advantage. She looked over at Byakuya, who had studiously avoided her gaze, and allowed the newly awakened lust of her body to show in her violet eyes. "But surely you won't leave my bed so soon?"

A startled silence followed, and then Sojun chuckled and the entire assemblage broke into mocked laughter.

"My goodness, you broke her good, eh Kuchiki?" said Kenpachi, leering at Lady Tsuta. "Now you've got two of them panting after you."

"Three," the woman to his left said, laughing and coyly smacking Lord Zaraki with her closed fan.

Byakuya sat stone-faced, not a blink of his thick lashes to acknowledge their words. Rukia spoke again before the conversation could degenerate any further, transferring her gaze to Lord Sojun. "May I be allowed to go with him? Surely the more we... well, the quicker you have your new champion."

The Espada lord appeared to be proud of his son's prowess, whether on the battlefield or in the bedroom, because his eyes showed no suspicion as he shrugged. "Go with him if you wish. I care not."

"But that's preposterous," said the Lady Tsuta, her voice at odds with her beauty, a nasally squeak to her words. "There's danger on the road. Bandits, thieves. And I vow I will not sleep upon the hard ground."

Rukia smiled at her sweetly. "Then you need not come."

Byakuya turned to his father. "She will be a nuisance."

Rukia knew he referred to her and not Lady Tsuta.

Sojun rolled his black scepter between his palms. "So will the king. Surely you can protect them both?" His eyes searched his son's face, as if looking for something.

"Of course. But I value the king more than I do her. Do not blame me if your breeding mare is harmed."

Sojun smiled with satisfaction, as if some unspoken question had been answered, and threw back his head with a laugh. Rukia couldn't figure out what had passed between the two, but she felt the silent battle of wills as if it were a solid wall. How would she ever discover the secrets between them?

But she had gotten her way and counted that a small victory.

**~xXx~**

**Soooo... I know some of you suspected/wanted a more loving side of Byakuya after... yeah, that's not gonna happen. For a while, at least. :) And well, well, well, Senna's in the picture. I ain't gonna lie. She cracks me up. **

**Constructive criticism is highly appreciated. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for the continuing reviews. While I may not demand them, they really do make my day every time I see them. **

**QUESTION- I've also been thinking... should I allow Rukia to become pregnant in this story... or not? I'll admit, after finishing writing this, I intended on not allowing Rukia with child, but... I'm having second considerations.**

**However, I can assure you it will make our lovely Byakushi very happy should it happen. :)**

**Your vote will decide.**

**ALSO: _Taisho_** **means "General." Since Byakuya is that of a higher rank, I'm not going to be calling him "taicho" in this story.**_  
_

_**Chapter 6**_

Byakuya entered his apartments later that evening, after having consumed a bit too much wine and fighting off advances of Lady Tsuta. Demanding wench. She annoyed him most of the time- which was precisely the reason he kept her as his mistress. He never felt in danger of becoming attached to her.

But at this moment he felt that his new wife annoyed him more. What business had she to invite herself along on this journey? It would be dangerous and most arduous for a lady, especially one as tiny and frail as Rukia. Had she no sense of self-preservation?

His shin met the edge of a table and he let out a startled curse. He didn't remember a table in the middle of the room. With a call to the reiatsu in his blood, he lit up the apartments with cold white fire and narrowed his eyes.

What had she done?

Instead of the sparsely furnished rooms he had demanded, a confusing array of color greeted him. Red velvet chairs littered the floor, along with tables of assorted shapes and sizes. Colorful tapestries hung from the previously clean walls, with country scenes and fanciful creatures and flowers.

"Flowers," he muttered, weaving his way through the room.

He paused in the sitting room, his senses alert, the same ones that had saved his life amid many a war. He quietly opened the door to the servants' room, which he'd intended to stay empty. Owners often became fond of their servants and he couldn't afford that to happen. Nor could he allow possible spies around him, reporting to his father and endangering anyone for whom he showed a weakness. So when he heard soft breathing coming from both beds his annoyance rose. He closed the door as softly as he'd opened it and quickly strode to his bedchamber.

The curtains of the bed had been pulled back and Rukia lay in the middle of the mattress, arrayed in some gossamer gown that left little to the imagination. And made his groin stir in anticipation. He ignored it, strode over to the bed, and crossed his arms.

"I forbid you to go with me tomorrow."

She opened her eyes with a start, looking tousled and frightened and entirely delicious, damn her. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me- and care to explain the meaning of all this?" He spread his arms, his reiatsu flaring to new life, lighting up the room to white-hot glow.

She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm not sure I understand."

Byakuya held back a growl of impatience. "You've ruined our apartments and hired two servants."

She frowned at him and he forced his eyes to stay on her face. Her pert nipples thrust at the fabric of her gown and did their best to gain his attention. But the charms of a woman had never distracted him from his purpose, and so it didn't worry him overly much.

"I didn't hire any servants," she said. "And I couldn't bear the coldness of these apartments. Isn't it enough that I must bear the coldness of the court?"

Her soft violet eyes looked at him accusingly and he knew he was to be blamed for the way the court treated her. He frowned. "It can't be helped."

Her lovely full mouth curled into a frown. "I don't understand."

Byakuya spun, refusing to be sympathetic with her, knowing he couldn't afford to involve himself with any feelings his new wife might display. He shrugged out of his haori, amused that instead of looking away, his wife eyed him with eager curiosity. "It's not your place to understand, Lady Kuchiki. You are to do as you are told and breed another champion; that is all." He sat in one of her velvet chairs and began taking off his waraji and socks. "You will disengage the servants tomorrow."

She crawled to the edge of the bed, her gown shifting up her knees. "I told you, they're not servants."

"Then what, exactly, are they? Creatures created by the Espada lords?"

He could hear the soft sound of her breath as it escaped her lips. "What?"

Byakuya resisted the urge to sigh. "Answer the question."

The daft woman completely changed the subject. "Did you enjoy our dance?"

Byakuya's mouth twitch. "Which one?"

He enjoyed her blush. "The one at the ball."

"I enjoyed the one in our bed much more."

"As did I." With a mortified gasp, she clapped a hand over her mouth, as if the words had escaped unthinkingly. Byakuya tried very hard not to think it charming. Instead he concentrated on untying the white sash that held his kimono together.

She slid off the bed and stood, the light shining through her transparent gown. "And yet you ignore me in front of the court and prefer your mistress by your side."

Byakuya allowed his white fire to fade to shadow. "Of course. You would do well not to mistake duty with pleasure."

She bristled at that. He admired her courage.

"Duty? You consider it just an obligation to lie with me?"

He removed his kimono, not bothering to stifle a yawn. Let that be her answer. He'd drunk too much tonight, and felt tired unto death of his father's games and the jostling of his minions for his attention. He had not patience for any further pretense, especially with this confusing woman.

He'd thought he would marry a boring, bendable girl. At least, that had been his impression before he'd bedded her last night. The realization he'd been gravely mistaken worried him.

"About those servants- "

"That's my power, you know."

Byakuya rubbed his bare chest. She had the oddest way of confounding him. "What?"

"I _dance_, Kuchiki-taisho. That's my gift."

"Oh." He yawned again, hooking his thumbs inside his hakama. He preferred to sleep in the nude when not on the battlefield. It might take several days to fetch the king. It wouldn't surprise him if Imperial Lord Baraggan made the task difficult as possible. He'd sleep in comfort while he could.

"I know many kinds of dances," she continued, her voice suddenly a bit unsure. "Shall I dance for you?"

Byakuya leaned back in the chair with a groan, reminding himself to dismiss the servants on the morrow. "There's no music."

"I need none."

And she began to dance.

For the first time in his life, a woman distracted Byakuya. More than distracted. Entranced.

The first sway of her body held him frozen in his seat. The slight flutter of her arm became the most erotic movement he'd ever seen. She had a grace that far surpassed those of pure Shinigami blood. The sound of his heart pounded in his ears, the rhythm a perfect accompaniment to her dance.

Byakuya could not take his eyes off her. Her violet eyes glazed to a dark luminosity, a fascinating mixture of sultry innocence. Her nightgown hid nothing and yet when she lifted the hem above a thigh, the sight of her smooth skin inflamed him even more.

He had thought her pleasing to look at, exquisitely shaped. But as she danced, she became etherally beautiful.

Her complete innocence in his bed and genuine faith convinced him she'd been raised religiously, and yet somewhere she'd learned a Shinigami love dance. What manner of woman had he married?

Rukia ended her dance on her knees in front of him, her head thrown back, breasts thrusted forward. Thighs parted in welcoming.

Byakuya didn't hesitate. He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and covered her body with his. He'd never felt such lust before, such an overwhelming need to possess a woman. He couldn't even prepare her for entry... but he needn't have worried. She was wet and hot and oh so welcoming. As if performing the dance for him had excited her as well.

When his senses managed to return he found himself flat on his back, staring at the engraving on the ceiling of the box bed, wondering how he would manage to avoid becoming infatuated with the little minx by his side. He quickly closed the curtains around the bed, reached out, and pulled Rukia near.

She wiggled against him and then gave a satisfied sigh. "Just duty, my lord?"

He smiled at her smug tone and refused to answer, his eyes drifting closed.

"May I keep the slaves?"

That brought him alert more quickly than the sound of gunfire. "What slaves?"

"The ones I hired to help me."

So, that's what she'd meant by saying they weren't servants.

He had worked in the kitchens as a slave for long dreary years. If she had purposely sought a way into his frighteningly human heart, she could not have done better than by caring for a slave.

"They will steal you blind," he finally said.

"They won't."

His eyes drifted closed again. "Let it be your worry, then. Just keep them from my sight." And he realized he'd just given her his agreement. Again all the likelihood, Rukia had bewitched him. His only recourse was to stay away from her and her new household. Gods forbid his father should he'd become fond of his wife or took pity on slaves. Not one of them would be safe from fire.

**~xXx~**

Byakuya woke before the sun rose and realized with dismay that his wife had already left the apartments. The stubborn wench seemed bound and determined to accompany him to fetch the king. Or to stay by his side. He supposed that becoming pregnant with his child and securing her place as mother of a champion was more important than her own safety. But producing a champion would be no easy task; most children were born with either too much power and sent to Hueco Mundo, or too little, like the nobles of his father's court. But he supposed he had a better chance than most of producing a child with acceptable spirit energy.

He parted the curtains and got out of bed, surprised to find his uniform laid out neatly atop his trunk and a kettle of tea warming above the soft embers of the fireplace. A bowl of rice topped with grilled fish and a small plate of fruit sat on the table next to the fireplace, and he ate the meal quickly before getting dressed. He rarely broke his fast in the morning but he supposed it would be easy to get used to.

Damn her.

It would not be the last time he cursed her that day, for when he entered the courtyard it appeared that half the court had also taken it into their heads to accompany him. The fools had brought palaquins and trunks and servants. They had dressed as if they attended a festival, a riot of silks and garish color. Byakuya fought back the urge to tell them to return to their soft beds. Only a few of them had packed lightly and sat atop a horse, so he would lose most on the road anyway. Descending the steps, his faithful entourage bowed in respect as he passed by, and he nodded.

Unfortunately, one of those who sat upon a horse happened to be his wife. His eyes narrowed at her sensible riding habit, the way the rising sun caught the midnight hue of her ebony hair and changed her eyes into twinkling violet. She chose to wear the standard shihakusho in favor of a kimono and- he squinted- was that a _sword_ strapped to her waist? It looked like... no. He shook his head. Impossible.

Had he once truly thought her ordinary?

She held the reins with such delicate hands, her slight form straight and graceful in the saddle. His groin stirred as he remembered her love dance, and he realized with a start of alarm that if he'd had a choice, he would rather have spent the day in bed with her than riding out to fetch his prize.

She caught his gaze and held it for a long moment. He felt sure his face revealed nothing- he'd trained it too well over the years- but he couldn't be sure whether his eyes showed a bit of his yearning. For Lady Rukia smiled with pleasure while a blush of bright red crept into her cheeks. Then her mount snorted and reared, and her attention centered on the huge beast she sat upon.

"She requested to ride instead of sitting inside a palaquin," one of his foot soldiers informed him, his youthful face betraying his awe as he subtly admired the lady before them. "Incredible. I've never known a lady- much less a woman- to be so insistent for something such as riding a horse."

"Hn." Byakuya glanced at his young warrior, then followed, wondering what half-wit had given her the black stallion, who was known for his volatile temperament. Even the best of riders had difficulty controlling the horse. He checked himself as he opened his mouth to demand another mount for his wife, feeling a pair of eyes upon him like a heavy shroud.

Byakuya turned. Sojun stood on the steps, his blue gaze going from his son to Rukia.

Women always gazed at the Espada lords with lustful admiration and he looked enough like his father to be given the same attention. But Byakuya couldn't be sure what his own eyes revealed and if he should show the slightest concern for Rukia's safety...

The general turned his back on his wife, indeed upon all the court, and mounted his own horse, signaling his troops forward. Despite the shrill outcry of alarm from a few of the nobles, Byakuya and his men pounded through the gates. By necessity they had to slow through the streets of Karakura and many of the court managed to catch up to them. But when they reached the countryside Byakuya set a brisk pace for his men, and as he had predicted, most of the fools fell behind.

A sudden flash of black seething muscle galloped past him, Lady Rukia clinging to the back of the stallion like a burr. Byakuya leaned forward, fully intending to ride after the runaway horse, afraid his new wife would be thrown from the beast and likely break her neck.

A shadow fell over him and he glanced skyward. Ador rode the winds, his father mounted on the dragon's back. So Sojun had come to watch the return of the king as well.

He cursed beneath his breath and sat back in the saddle. Sojun would wonder if Byakuya rode after the girl, wife or no. An Espada lord should be concerned only with himself, and humans were but dumb creatures to be used at a whim.

He would kill the half-wit who had given her that horse.

The general continued the brisk pace he had set, perhaps increasing a bit as he searched far down the road. When he saw the black speck, with a ride still astride, he grunted with relief. Lady Rukia waited for them to catch up, patting the neck of the lathered, shivering beast. Somehow she had tamed the black stallion. As his troops passed her, she gently flickered the reins and the beast rode smartly along with the rest of the horses, his ears occasionally flicking back at Rukia as if eager to comply with her slightest wish. He couldn't help but feel a trickle of admiration for his new wife.

Byakuya straightened his spine and slowed the pace. He didn't see a need to tire his horses any more than necessary. It would take them several days to reach the southern borders, hiding the town that lay on the border between the sovereignties of the Soul Society and Hueco Mundo, where the exchange of the king was to be made. For now the general fully intended to take advantage of the peaceful countryside to calm the anger his wife had managed to provoke by almost getting herself killed.

He loved the land. The beautiful fortified mountains full of green miles away from open farm lands. Although he knew that when the Espada lords had chosen and conquered each of their sovereignties they had altered the lands with their powers, he could still see the original beauty of Nihon beneath the huge Espada flame trees with fire red blooms that dotted the green swards of Hueco Mundo.

Byakuya himself had visited the remaining four sovereignties but supposed he would fight battles within them some day. His curiosity about them could wait. He hoped he would still be able to recognize the original countryside of Nihon within them, though.

For now he avoided the pockets of flame that shimmered among hill and vale, taking the road less traveled, bringing their party through silent forests and sleepy meadows. The pre-autumn leaves almost rivaled that of the elven lord's flame trees with their tints of red and orange color. Byakuya allowed the beauty and peace to settle over him, storing it up as usual for when he would need to call on it within the palace walls of the Palace.

By the time he found a good place to stop for the night he felt saddle weary but calm. He chose to camp near a small stream within a circle of flame trees, their fire red blooms lighting up the area within and around the clearing. The glow from the blossoms should discourage any surprise attacks.

He signaled for his men to help the ladies- and more than a few guardsmen- to dismount. Each time they had rested the courtiers had scrambled from the saddle with increasing stiffness. If his men hadn't aided them now, they would be sprawled about the ground in their silks and satin.

His men pitched their tents, including his, the largest of the lot, and built the fires to prepare the meal. Byakuya washed up with the other male courtiers at the far end of the camp, allowing the ladies some privacy for their own adulations. His camp cook must have planned for guests for the meal tasted better than usual. Sojun did not join them. Ador could fly faster than the swiftest horse could gallop, and the Espada lord would sleep in his own bed tonight back at the Palace.

Byakuya hadn't looked at Lady Rukia the entire day, yet he knew exactly where she rode in their column, knew right now her position around the campfire. He supposed she hadn't thought to bring a tent and he would have to invite her into his. His heart soared at the thought and then he stilled. Granted, he enjoyed bedding her. But he'd never felt such anticipation for a woman before feared where it might lead.

"Why, Kuchiki-taisho, I do believe you lost half the court on purpose."

Byakuya didn't know whether to feel relief or dismay at the sound of Lady Tsuta's whiny voice. "My intentions had been to lose them all."

As usual, Tsuta laughed, ignoring his cold demeanor and tone of voice.

Few dared approach him. Two of his lieutenants sat next to him but the rest of their party gave him a wide berth.

Rukia seemed content surrounded by the rest of his men, avoiding the company of the courtiers, who either had the tendency to ignore her or treat her with indifferent disdain. Byakuya knew he was to blame, for the fools took their cues from him. He tried to ignore the sudden wash of guilt.

Tsuta sat in his lap. "Oh, it appears that I forgot to bring a tent." She leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Would you perhaps have room in yours, my champion?"

Byakuya winced. He hated when she called him that. In one smooth movement he slowly pushed her off and stood. "My apologies, but I have a duty to perform."

Tsuta glanced over at Rukia and frowned. "It's a sad tradition, my lord, to so deny your pleasure for duty, but I suppose it can't be helped. I'm sure I will find another tent with a bit of room." She smiled coyly at that, her eyes roaming the officers, and then sighed. "Not one of them could compare to you. If you should need some... comfort during the night then please, say so."

Byakuya nodded. "I will endeavor to keep that in mind." And then he headed straight for his wife. Discussion stilled when he approached and by the time he reached her side, complete silence reigned among the previously boisterous group. He said nothing, only held out his hand. She looked up at him, those soft violet eyes wide with surprise, and placed her hand in his.

"We have a duty," he said. "Surely that is why you have inconvenienced me this day." The courtiers overheard. Several of the women gasped and more than a few men snickered. His soldiers just looked at him with dismay.

Rukia's brilliant eyes dulled but she allowed him to lead her to his tent.

"Even though you may feel I am only your duty," she whispered, "must you say it in front of everyone?"

The sadness in her voice managed to bother him and his words came out harsher than intended. "I have no feelings. I thought I made that obvious. You must cease in this ridiculous tendency to be hurt by that fact."

She ducked inside his tent, and he tied the flap closed, shutting out the glow of the fire. He could just make out the outline of delicate nose, the gleam of her large eyes.

"But you do take pleasure with me," she said, keeping her voice low, knowing those outside could hear everything within their shelter. "What have I done for you to treat me so coldly?"

"I told you not to come. You chose to ignore my wishes. You must accept the consequences of your actions."

"Oh." Her voice shivered, sounding very small.

Devil a bit, he felt no sympathy for her. That horse could have killed her. "Come here."

Her hakama rustled as she moved closer to him. At least she had dressed more sensibly than Tsuta. Byakuya grabbed her by the shoulders and roughly kissed her. Damn, he had wanted to do that all day.

She melted against him and despite everything, his kiss turned gentle. He brought his mouth to her ear, speaking in nothing but a breath of sound. "It's just fortunate for you that I happened to honor my obligations."

"What...?"

"Your dance, wife. It brought me satisfaction and yet you had none of your own."

Her breath caught.

Slowly, his fingers trailed a sensual path down the sides of her body and Rukia suppressed the urge to shudder at the delicious sensations it provoked out of her. It didn't last long, however, when he tugged out her zanpakuto strapped against her body, and she gasped.

Byakuya studied the weapon before him, his eyes flickering over to his suddenly quiet wife. "This blade," he began, his voice lowering into a deep timbre, "where did you get it?"

Rukia quickly conjured the most defensive excuse Uryuu had trained her to use should the situation require it. "My father thought it best if I was well-trained in the arts of swordsmanship, so he sought to attend that matter should there... ever be a need to use one."

Well, it wasn't that much of a lie. Rukia had been well-adamant at wanting to know how to defend herself well before the Rebellion had formed. Ever since learning of her heritage as a Shinigami, she pursued to become one of the best and to help restore the honor and glory of this land that has been viciously ripped away by the Espada. But it all came with a cost, for if Byakuya, or even his father, should ever discover even a hint of spiritual pressure from her...

She fought to remain confident. Uryuu had seen to it that she mastered the technique of hiding her powers and that of her zanpakuto's when in the face of a challenging task such as this one, and so far she had succeeded, and would continue to succeed until her job was over, which was to kill Sojun. A job she knew, that would be her greatest conquer yet. Not to mention the deadliest.

"Hmm," Byakuya continued to study the sheathed blade as if she'd just handed him some important piece of parchment, and Rukia gulped. Finally, he moved his stern gaze to her. "I admit that it is a bit... unorthodox for women to carry such a weapon around, but then again, you are no ordinary woman, I suppose." Rukia frowned, wondering if she should feel flattered or offended. "However," he placed the sword aside, "there is no need for one. I won't let any harm come to you... Rukia." The pupils in his eyes hardened. "This I swear."

Rukia released a shuddering breath, and he captured her lips again, his tongue demanding for entrance. He laid her down and tugged off her hakama before she had a chance to reply. Her legs shone whitely against the dark futon blanketing the floor of the tent. Byakuya ran his hands up and down that smooth skin, pulling off her socks in the process, until she quit trembling. When had he ever been so concerned about the satisfaction of his bed partner? And yet he could not shake the longing to see her face glowing with pleasure.

Byakuya lowered his head and kissed a knee.

She jumped. He kissed the other knee, then began to trail kissed up her thighs, first one, and then the other, until he reached the dark hair between them.

"You... this..." she panted out, "is shocking."

He smiled and continued his explorations, finding the little nub nestled in her hair, flicking it with his tongue until she started to pant, Byakuya raised himself up and picked up her hand, looking at her wedding ring. The petals of the rose had bloomed wide open, and he raised a dark brow at her. "Have I shocked you enough?"

Rukia gritted her teeth. "I don't... I don't think so."

"Excellent."

And then he began to lavish her with his tongue, her breathless cries like music to his ears.

**~xXx~**

The journey the next day seemed twice as long as the day before. Byakuya forced himself to ignore Rukia, for if he looked at her, his groin quickly stirred to life. It made him even more determined to deny the ridiculous attraction he had for her and he took refuge within the Espada side of his nature.

But damn his human passion, he could not stop thinking about her and chose a camp for the night before the sun even passed below the horizon.

Byakuya ignored the curious glances of his men, the whispered comments of the court while they made camp, and he used his unique powers to light the fires. He washed quickly, wolfed down his food, and went to her before she'd eaten half of hers. But she didn't protest as he dragged her into the tent.

They sat on the futon facing each other, an undeniable chemistry crackling between them. Daylight flooded their small chamber and he looked his fill of her, from her soft violet eyes to her ebony hair, until she blushed and looked down at her pants, which puddled about her hips as she sat on the floor across from him.

She looked stunning, a mix of innocence and fortitude that made his desire for her uncontrollable. He'd never felt the urge to possess her mind as well as her body. Had she thought of him today as he'd thought of her? Had she come to him out of duty?

Byakuya shrugged off his haori and untied the sash that held his kimono in place and reached for her. Shoving her hakama pants off, he pulled her towards his kneeling legs.

"I've been thinking about what you showed me last night- " Rukia started.

Byakuya kissed her, trying to devour her.

"- all day- " she managed.

He plunged his tongue inside the sweet softness of her mouth, trying to still her tongue with his own.

Again, she managed to pull away and speak. "I want to try- "

Byakuya covered her lips again, holding her with one arm while his hand quested with the other. He quickly found her hot opening and groaned with relief. Wet. Ready for him. Physically, at least, she wanted him, and he should not have felt so grateful. With his beauty, he'd yet to find a woman that couldn't resist him. And yet that didn't seem quite enough. Byakuya wanted more from her, wanted her spirit as much as he needed her body... and cursed himself for the mere thought. He could not have such void inside of him that needed filling. He _would _not.

Leaning back into a more comfortable position, he reached in between his legs and freed himself. He grabbed her bare bottom with both hands and pulled her onto his lap. A bit higher and the tip of his shaft met her soft flesh. He groaned.

Rukia spoke no more. She clutched his shoulders and pulled herself closer to him, full encasing him within her. His fingers tightened on her buttocks, and he rocked her back and forth on his lap, the pressure of her weight on him pulling him deeper inside her than he'd ever dared. She threw her head back, the velvet skin of her throat bared to him. Byakuya buried his mouth in that softness as he set a rhythm that had her panting his name.

He sucked at the skin of her neck, trying to smother his own groan of release as his body exploded.

Later that night, as the moonlight glowed, Byakuya found himself unable to sleep as he gazed at his slumbering wife next to his side. His eyes narrowing in conflicting emotions. Lifting a large hand, he hesitantly smoothed away the stubborn bang lounging across her face, and sighed. His fingers gently brushing along her smooth neck. He repeated the process several more times. He couldn't allow himself to fall in love with her.

He couldn't.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the delayed update. "I got lost on the path of life." (couldn't resist stealing that priceless line from Kakashi-sensei haha ***for those of you who watch Naruto and know what I'm talking about***) **

**But seriously, with juggling college, family, and work, I'm practically booked. **

**Not to mention that I just recently got engaged. ;)**

**ALSO, I'm pretty sure I warned you guys before, but- I have no intention on following through with traditional TRADITIONAL Japanese customs in this story.**

**All in all, I hope this chapter meets your approval. It's the shortest one yet.**

_**Chapter 7**_

His foolish attempt at denying himself the day before had only made his want of her even stronger. Byakuya didn't even try to suppress his groans when he took her the second time that night. And late into the morning, the third. And when he stepped out of the tent, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Tsuta studied him with shrewd eyes. He had never made such sounds of pleasure with her. His officers quickly hid their grins but the nobles felt no such compunction, jabbing each other with their elbows and snickering behind their hands. He could imagine their gossip- a woman had finally snared the espada bastard. Could he be more human then espada after all?

For the entire day a trickle of worry kept him even farther away from Rukia than usual. But he noticed a few of the male nobles rode alongside her, trying to engage her in conversation and curry her favor. Fortunately the women stayed huddled around Lady Tsuta, continuing their cold treatment of Rukia but now occasionally throwing her looks of disgust.

Perhaps he hadn't blundered too badly, then.

Still, Byakuya breathed a sigh of relief when they reached Kyoto. Despite the lateness of the day the market bustled with activity. It distracted the courtiers and fortunately his wife as well. They passed stalls and stables of every cloth imaginable, draped to show the sheen, arranged to reflect the softness of the weave. He did not stop and did not concern himself with the nobles who chose to linger in the marketplace. Lady Rukia stayed with his troops.

Byakuya knew something had gone wrong the moment he reached the Fire and Water Inn. It should have been filled with the king's advisors and court. Only an old man and a drunk sat at the wooden tables.

General Kuchiki called for the innkeeper, who emerged from the back room, wiping his hands nervously on his stained leggings, a tremor in the jowls of his cheeks.

"Where is he?"

The innkeeper dropped to the floor and bowed. "I know not, my lord. His rooms have been prepared, I assure you."

Byakuya waved a hand dismissively. "There must be rumors. There are always rumors. What have you heard?"

The portly man glanced up, his eyes flitting nervously from Byakuya's face to the sword at his side.

"They say..." His voice broke. "Arumph. They say that the king refuses to leave Kyoshu. His court is quite comfortable there and he has no desire to take up residence in Karakura."

Byakuya's lip twitched. So their magnanimous king wanted to play hide-and-seek, did he? Surely he realized he had little choice in the matter. But Imperial Lord Llargo supported him, making their victory as difficult as possible or just extending the game. The espada lords had a unique sense of what relieved their boredom.

He spun. "Mount up," he barked to his troops, heading for the door.

"But my lord," called the innkeeper, "night is falling, and your horses- "

If the man hadn't sounded so genuinely concerned for the beasts, Byakuya would have ignored him. The roads to Kyoshu were notorious for their ruts and deep pits, and a horse could easily break a leg traveling on the dark night.

Byakuya raised a hand and lit the ceiling of the inn with cold white fire. The drunkard fell off his chair and the old man covered his bald head with his thin arms. The innkeeper squinted at the brilliance that would light any road the general chose to ride.

"Do not forget whom you are speaking to again."

"No, no, my lord, most assuredly I won't."

But the innkeeper had done him a favor, for the light revealed a small figure huddled in the corner, her violet eyes wide and her lovely hair framing about her cheeks. Byakuya couldn't tear his eyes away from hers.

"Innkeeper," he barked as he neared her. "See that my new... bride is well cared for."

"Oh... oh yes, my lord. Of course."

Rukia rose, as if fully intending to follow him despite his words. He gave her a cold look that should have frozen her in place. "You will stay here."

She looked confused, as if she couldn't fathom why he would deny her company. "But Kurosaki- err... the king. Perhaps I can help convince him to come."

"I will do the convincing," snapped Byakuya, completely out of patience. "Something is afoot and I will not allow you to be caught up in an espada game. _And you will obey me this time." _He_ couldn't _afford a drain on his power if he faced a battle while assuring her safety and held up his palms, surrounding her in a ring of dull grey fire.

Her mouth dropped open quite becomingly; he could just make out her features through the gray flames. She held out her arms and touched the walls of her prison, and then shoved at them. Gray fire wouldn't hurt her but it would remain impenetrable until he snuffed it, which he would not do for several hours. By then he and his men would be well on the road to Kyoshu and she could not follow.

Byakuya gave a grunt of satisfaction and strode out of the inn, mounting his horse in one smooth leap. When darkness fell he lit their way with white fire and they made good time on the road. Halfway to Koyoshu he called a halt, sudden winds buffering his horse and men.

Ador landed just beyond his light, a black gleaming shape in a dark meadow. Sojun slid down from his perch and waited for his son to come to him.

Byakuya remembered to release cage of gray fire from around Rukia, wishing he could have been there to see her face, then quickly dismissed her from his mind as he reached his father. He glanced at Ador and the dragon blinked one red eye at him in acknowledgement.

"Where are you going?" demanded Sojun.

The general stiffened. "The king is not in Kyoto. It is said that he refuses to leave the comfort of Kyoshu."

"Interesting. So Llargo wants to extend the game."

"So it seems."

Sojun almost smiled. "I wonder what is on his clever mind." At this, Byakuya snorted. While rather impressive in both size and strength, Llargo Yammy proved to be anything BUT clever. "Too bad it can't be anything on a grand scale. He knows better than to interfere directly in the game."

"He can only support the king's folly, nothing more. I will take care of this, Father. Your presence here might be misconstrued." The Imperial Lords rarely consulted with their commanders once a game had begun. It broke their rules of giving the orders and watching the humans try to follow them. For them, that was the most amusing part of the game. But Llargo had technically started a new one, so Sojun had a right to discover the nature of it and perhaps issue a few new orders.

But it would look better among the espada lords if he allowed his champion to decide what action to take. Sojun nodded and returned to his dragonsteed, mounting in one fluid motion.

The horses and his men looked better for the halt and they made good time for the rest of the journey, arriving in Kyoshu with the dawn.

His men narrowed their eyes against the glare of the sun's rays as they rode through the dusty streets. Small houses ranging from different sizes sported the same colors as their neighbors, of gray or brown, straw and wood. The walls and roofs rounded like the swell of a wave.

But they could not compare to Kyoshu palace, the home of Imperial Lord Llargo. As Byakuya and his men approached the looming structure, he marveled again that something so seemingly _soft _could be so impregnable. The walls surrounding the palace had been crafted to resemble ocean waves, one rolling atop the other to create one large barrier. Espada power made the waves to actually flow, but the palace walls themselves really did move with the water. It erupted from the top turrets of the palace to cascade down the ridged walls, a translucent shimmer of color in the morning sunlight.

A flood of water drenched Byakuya as they passed through the open gate and he didn't get any drier when he reached the waterfall-surrounded courtyard. Water rained down from the palace walls and splattered from the waterfalls and swirled about his horse's hooves. The general's haori stuck to his shoulders and back and made him itch. He scowled. Wet coat stank.

And the king didn't want to leave this place?

Byakuya's scowl faded a bit though, as a welcoming party splashed forward to meet him. Two liveried footmen held an enormous umbrella shaped like the wings of a seagull over the balding head of a heavyset gentleman. His bearing struck Byakuya as someone of importance, and as he neared, the piercing intelligence in the man's darkish-colored eyes confirmed it.

"Kuchiki-sama?" the man inquired, his voice raised to a shout to be heard above the waterfalls.

"Kuchiki-_taisho_," Byakuya replied. He had no aspirations to be a lord. Although he supposed that because of Rukia his children would have that distinction- He cut off the thought.

"Yes, of course. Well met, Kuchiki-taisho. I am Lord Omaeda." He bowed. "My most humblest apologies, sir, to both you and your men, for having to come as an additional distance to fetch your king. But we would be most honored to have your escort to Kyoto, and then, of course, to Karakura Palace."

"Indeed? The king has reconsidered his attachment to Kyoshu?"

Something flickered in those intelligent eyes, but too quickly for Byakuya to guess the emotion behind it.

"Not quite, Kuchiki-taisho. However, I have packed up the court and we await you at the side gate."

"And the king?"

"You will find him at the bath house. Down this street a ways. A large statue of the god Suijin fronts the building."

The general raised a brow.

"His royal entourage will be waiting for him by the time you... escort him out."

"I see. It's a pleasure to meet such a sensible man, Lord Omaeda."

Omaeda bowed low. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you. I've heard much about the champion's exploits on the battlefield."

Byakuya nodded his head brusquely, tired of the polite speech, the hidden implications. He turned his mount and sloshed back through the courtyard into the relatively dry streets, easily finding the large statue of Suijin. His men circled the front of the building, his lieutenant ordering half of them to surround the back exits without having to be told.

Byakuya expected Llargo's army, or what was left of it, anyway, to appear within moments. His men readied themselves, drawing forth their rifles and frowning, wondering if the shot was still dry. Most of them drew their swords.

Byakuya waved off the men who tried to accompany him, entering the building by himself.

Hot steam met his vision as he slid open the thick door. Not a single guard stood attention at the door to the baths and with no opposition Byakuya strode into the humid room.

A muscular man sat up to his neck in the waters, two women his only companions, one thin and the other heavyset. Byakuya didn't waste time with words- he already knew what the situation required. He reached down and pulled the king out of the water, grateful that propriety required a bathing costume. He did not relish having a man's naked buttocks so close to his face.

"Oi!" the king snapped, his eyes narrowing angrily as he whirled around, fist at the ready. When he saw who it was that had touched his person however, he gaped. _"Kuchiki-taisho?"_

Byakuya gave him a respectful nod. "It's been a while... Isshin."

And before the man could protest, the stoic general slugged him right in the face, knocking him out cold. Byakuya watched as Isshin fell heavily to the slippery floors, and with a bored sigh, reached down and slung the unconscious man over broad shoulders. The two women scrambled from the bath and followed, screaming for help throughout the walk back to the front doors.

Byakuya hesitated before he stepped outside, fully expecting to hear the sounds of battle. But only his troops waited for him and as promised, the king's gilded palaquin. Byakuya handed his burden off to Lord Omaeda, who waited outside. The two ladies quickly followed their monarch and the general slammed the door behind them and nodded at the runners to move.

His troops surrounded the ornately decorated coach as it made its way through the empty streets. The men who had covered the back of the building joined them.

"Nothing?" asked the general.

"No, sir, and I'm not liking it."

Byakuya felt the same way, waiting for an ambush as they journeyed back to the palace. But when that failed to happen it set him to wondering. Why had Llargo allowed the king this ridiculous little rebellion if the espada lord didn't wish to engage in a last desperate battle? Perhaps he hadn't expected Byakuya himself to fetch the prize, and the Imperial Lord couldn't afford to lose any more men in another battle with the champion. It would take Kyoshu another generation of breeding before it built its army back up enough for a decent invasion.

Still, Byakuya refused to take any chances, escorting the king's palaquin directly back to the inn, not waiting for his court to catch up.

It took them twice as long to make the journey back, arriving far after midnight. The innkeeper met him in the doorway, twisting his pudgy hands around the mop cloth, ignoring the arrival of the king and approaching Byakuya first.

"She's been taken, my lord," he sais without preamble, "along with several of the other ladies."

He didn't need to ask to whom the man referred. He should have kept her imprisoned in gray fire. A deathly calm settled over Byakuya. Now he knew Llargo's game. Karakura would gain the king, but Llargo would deprive them of the champion's new bride.

"Fukutaicho!" barked the general.

"Hai!"

"Get us fresh mounts." Byakuya turned to the best tracker in his company. "Takahashi-taicho. Go with the innkeeper; find their trail."

"Hai, Kuchiki-taisho!"

Byakuya clenched his fists. Rukia belonged to him. Damn what Sojun might say about the matter; he would get her back.

Damn if he would allow Llargo that petty victory.

Fire bled from between his fingers and he took a deep breath, dispelling that telltale flame and slowly uncurled his hands. His rage didn't come from caring about the girl. That had nothing at all to do with it.

At least... that's what he tried to convince himself.


End file.
